I taste you.
Mouth watering wild strawberries; on this most
delicious of afternoons.
You smile –
fizzy wine – has us flat on
Heck it is so damn hot –
kicking of my shoes
the short grass delights between my toes.
I feel like a child on a picnic where
all the rules have been removed.
Refusal to enjoy is not on the menu today.
Staring up, at the palest intimate blue of sky
with not one single cloud, to spoil the view.
I watch a plane –
hanging there, lifeless, as if about
to suddenly drop.
Can’t quite decide if it is over us or not.
Nevertheless I wave and blow them a kiss.
Being next to you makes me feel
heady – like a giggly school girl on her
first real date.
You pull me close
we meld, like two
pieces of hot buttered toast.
Warm breath – alluring breeze carried
on the kiss I present to you
‘Let me tell you something’ I whisper
‘Tell me’. You say’!
But we neither speak another word.
I taste you, sweet wild strawberries.
Palpable silence, echoed only in the picking of
two lovers bones…
Poppy January 2013