In The Absence

Precious residue,

Seized in a moment of rebel love,

Is gulped through greedy nostrils,

In the absence of its source.

His wild scent etches my skin with stolen memories –

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flashes of pleasure and passion transcendent

snatched free of the disapproval of intrusive eyes,

woven into the whipping air and chilly salt

and embroidered with the calls of gulls:

our colors in this tapestry are as tightly intertwined

as the wind and the waves;

our blood pulses with a rhythm equally ancient.

we know no other home than this embrace.

in my mouth this scent this taste his skin his love him all of him…

he gasps in my ear and clutches my back

and he’s here, we’re here, together,

inseparable, indistinguishable, in love –

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And his beloved scent lingers on bereft fingers

Aching with the promise of more.

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Happy Birthday, love.