A touch of butter <br />warm and melted <br />on my mouth <br />reminds me of a smile <br />we might have shared <br />had we yet met; <br />the sweep of tea <br />astringent, hot <br />across the palate <br />brings to mind <br />the shock of <br />recognition <br />a soul can feel <br />when seeking <br />a companion; <br />hot mug, cool glass <br />against those <br />fine tuned nerves <br />in every finger <br />turn thoughts to <br />skin and hair <br />caressed, caressing... <br />breakfast, <br />such a simple meal <br />suddenly a source <br />of sensual suggestion... <br />perhaps I should not <br />have chosen <br />crumpet.<br /><br />Midnight Clarity<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/breaking-my-fast/
