it is not the appellation
i am concerned with;
the where of your origins,
the soil from which you sprung -
all are trivial matters.

tell me
what your earth scent
nature is, and how
did you steal the mealy
woodworm aura
of humus?

love, how is it
you still questions
i don't understand?

ask where we began
i'll say
draw a line in the sand, by the shore
under every blue august moon.

ask me again,
i'll fold into
your each and every how;
it is timeless, without cadence -
they are endless, almost novel,
save for the sifting semblance of
ages past
in those camel brown eyes.

fingers
don't know how to observe;
although they want your skin,
they want more for you to feel.

your nose immobile,
except when the nostrils flare,
or something tickles,
and it twitches.
my wish -
i'll make you laugh,
arch in connuptions;
i'll parallel your every bend.

i cannot command
myself
smell,
separate your scent
from my sheets - though
it's been months and
memories laundered,
they still well,
silly wafting tears
saline taste
scent as
i'm rung.

orig published nov05