Skin

Skin

It wasn't your tender smile,
nor was it that look you get,
when the planets unite, join.
It was your skin softly caressing
my own; your touch remains
and fills me like a good earnest
novel, one that is a memory
implanted, folded into a box,
sealed into my faithful heart,
opened for rainy days
when you are gone.

When you are not with me,
I open the my present with the key
unveiling secret delights,
that coo, whisper in my ear,
unbridled love eternal,
never forgotten, nor forsaken.
It's all for me you see, us,
erasing stormy, mossy skies,
unleashing golden sun.

I wait patiently for your spirit,
leading me down lightly tread
paths into sunset worlds,
where princes slay dragons,
demolishing frozen nightmares recurrent,
your skin next to mine, always present,
as it was meant to be, just us two,
welcoming shimmering starry nights,
love eternal, without reservation.

© 2011, by Michael Wayne Holland