Dreaming, just before dawn, that you lay sleeping beside
me, your arm across my chest, like a charm against flight,
the chaos of your curls ensconced between
my shoulder and chin, tickling my nose.
Your scent, light male musk, is a song singing
through me, like the surf on a midnight beach,
a drug on which I will gladly overdose.
In this perfume, I am paradise owned.
I know that I am dreaming, I know this
Eden’s scent is but a memory saved
and replayed- a song forever fading
in forever decrescendos. No matter.
I will inhale every last note.
This is a working copy (poem)