Woke

_______

                    ......Woke to the reed and thrum of your breathing,

fabric pressed against skin, hollows between the ribs appearing, then not,

with each delicate breath you draw.

                                                    ..............The steady throb of your heartbeat

against my chest, your scent; all of it fills me up, makes me heady. Smiling

with contentment at the moment, I take it all in. Watching you, I think of how

sure I am, for once, that I wouldn't try to leave.

                    ......Woke from my reverie to the rustle of turning pages,

the sound of rain pattering on the ground, the sway of trees in the distance.

I turn to see you looking, eyes peering

                                                    ..............from behind the papers, the corners of

your mouth curled slightly upwards. The slight glistening on the top of

your lip as you pout, the gentle tilt of your head as you ask the why; it just

fills me up, intoxicates.

                    ......Your voice sounds on my phone, and for a brief moment, I can feel you

lying beside me. As you speak, the breath of your love gently envelopes and I am,

again, reminded of how much I miss you.

                                                    ..............When you next walk into view, I know

I just want to smother you with my affections; to tell, about your lingering scent

everywhere even though you're not physically here. And when you come in,

I want to show you

                    ......the little yellow soap box I use, with the honey bear and the red flowers

in his hands; where I bought it.

When.          Why.

                                                    ..............Have you see the colors that I see, ask you questions

on why stars twinkle the way they do, just so that I can hear you talk; just so that I can

lose myself in the sound of your voice.

                    ......You walk towards me, and as I watch the gentle side-sway of your hips

dance delicately, I know that when you reach, your hands will search out mine.

That warms my heart.

                                                    ..............Pressing your fingers to my lips, I'll want

to tell you how much I want to be with you.    How little life would mean otherwise.

How heightened everything seems when you're here.     How alive I feel, when I think of

sharing my life with you.

© Luqman Lee /2002