a jade glow from
the flat screen produces
product of memory
falls lightly like aerosol
I think of your eyes,
countless petty thefts
longing in that calm color

sleepless and dim
my window breathes
with the scent of a pepper tree
your hair close
and spicy with
the same slight perfume
proffered miles away

the warm satin of
your skin, kneading
lithe sinew in your body
I listened to your heartbeat
while you slept once
it was my favorite song
absently tracing my lips

fields of negative space
make pictures in the plains
your waist and thighs
landscapes of you
painted in my recounting
pthalo blue and burnt sienna
powdering nights like these

© Tom Watters  10/19/07