(Because you asked me to write this)
It’s late again;
the morning’s turned to afternoon
and I have never kissed someone
so many times in all their unknown places.
Our love becomes
a mirror where your eyes reflect a light
on all those lonely nights we’ve lived
before our spirits met and hearts began to sing.
After the love
is over with it’s multi coloured liquid songs
the room vibrates with stolen sounds that
permeate the solid age old walls
and the smell of sex,
is licked from each one’s lips
inhaled with puzzled smiles:
there is no sense in asking why.
each other’s breath a moment in recline
turn away to lie entwined
and wait for coffee.