You smell like...
Saturday morning in spring.
The fresh spritz of cleaning products mingle together with the warm taste of familiar walls. a refreshed start to the end of the week, but a morning kiss to the start of an era. Balanced with the soft bass of music that makes the heart sing, a morning alarm worth waking up to.
Your aroma is inviting, strung together to accommodate my palette; my selective taste buds salivate at the heavy breath of your detergent. New and fresh like cut grass, clean like water pouring from the hose, and thick like the heat radiating from the big yellow rise of light.
You smell like home.
A life guarded by stone walls and friendly neighbours. The gentle grace of palm leaves towers over as a watchful eye. A Bike gliding against the grain. In pace, on time, on beat to the flicker of shadows bouncing against the pedals. Sweat clings on for dear life for the thrill and exhilaration of unconstrained existence.
You taste like the last bite. Complete. A satiable taste with a lingering urge for more. So good my tongue braces against the knife, risk of injury for desire. So good I swipe every last crumb til the cold taste of ceramic is too much to bear. Dare I succumb to wrapping my tongue around my fingers to scrounge for what’s left of you? Heated imagery would ravish my mind because you look so…
Warm. Toasty.
Roasted marshmallows against the spitting flames.
A steamy bath against nipping toes.
Your warm breath against the top of my ear.
My cheeks burn at the thought, radiating from head to toe, and your touch had not yet once brushed my skin.
You look happy. Puppy eyes every time we are welcomed to each other once more. Your face reminds me of a sunrise, a blend of colours beyond our comprehension, a vastness stretched against peaking clouds. Expansive depths I would love to dive into headfirst.
My eyes blur at the mere sight of you, yet my mind has never felt so clear.