Morning

[shanmonster]

Remember the early, the way
I touched you.
Remember the early, the feel
of my hands on your skin.
And your skin moved as
my hands moved,
and you reached out to
touch.

Remember the soft, the way
you breathed on my hair.
Remember the soft, and remember
the sleek sound of skin sliding against a
morning without time.

.........

(Written in 1994)