Love is the shortest distance between two hearts.
~
Dark brown
her eyes take me back
to the forest
I went into
and never came back –
~
Floating on the night air
the smell of jasmine
and orange blossoms
reminds me of her hair,
the way the light glides
along its waving curls,
the way, when I touched it,
I felt a lock open
in the region of my heart.
~
All the kisses
that clang to her skin
flowered in the moonlight
as I undressed her,
silently, slowly,
my gray beard
into her softness pressing
line after line
of poetry.
~
Touching her is a process; its name is poetry.
~
Each year runs
a little faster
since the day I saw
my first white hair
Each year runs
to find my heart
a little quieter
as autumn comes
~
For the poems to come
I close my eyes and imagine
her face
~
Unlabeled
this pulse tying
my heart and hers
Rooted in Love 