You wear a light summer dress <br />that covers your body <br />in flowers <br /> <br />that cling <br /> <br /> <br /> here to a thigh... <br /> ...there a breast <br /> <br />that clings <br />like music <br /> <br /> to the curve of a hip. . . <br /> ... the little splash of the hem of a dress <br /> <br />as the garden orchestra plays <br />seducing the hours <br /> <br />until they relent <br />and make love to the twilight <br /> <br />like humans make love <br />the kind of love that is made <br />when one is in love <br /> <br />and I remember this body <br />dancing now before me <br /> <br />totally in love <br />with the music <br /> <br />which <br />calls it...calls it <br /> <br />I remember this body <br /> <br />stepping delicately <br />from its shower <br /> <br />sighing with closed eyes <br />as I dried its wet nakedness <br /> <br />patting it dry <br />bit by bit <br /> <br />loving the big fluffy towelness of it <br /> <br /> here a breast... <br /> ... there a hip <br /> <br />pausing <br />to kiss it <br /> <br />bit by bit <br /> <br />your eyes still closed <br />(a sigh trembling on your lip) <br /> <br />and I dressing <br />your body <br />in the flowers <br />that now in music <br />sway before me <br /> <br />offering me <br />its beauty <br /> <br />as it cuts <br />through time <br /> <br />in time with the music <br /> <br />a hand elegantly here <br />hair wildly flying there <br /> <br />as night becomes <br />morning <br /> <br />your voice nuzzling into my neck: <br />“Oh, darling...darling! ” <br /> <br />Now, in these early hours <br />I take off your flowers <br /> <br />scattered across a moonlit floor <br /> <br />kiss <br /> <br /> here your breast... <br /> ... there a hip <br /> <br />kiss <br /> <br />your lips <br /> <br />for hours
