I inhale, capturing everything
that slips out, seeking rapt pleasure
from the essence that is you
“your breath is sweet to the taste”
pulsing excitement is waiting
to be felt, and I consume it
with tender resolve
ever to be savored by
this heart’s needful hunger,
uncommon and certainly insatiable
“your sigh is like music to my ears”
scents mingle, saturating every inch
of the room, thick and sultry
as a mid summer day
holding our souls captive
within the bonds of
fervent ardor bathed
“with the perfume of passion”
languid sensuality pleads
this moment be frozen
for eternity and
we become intoxicated with
the aroma of our intimate
pheromone union, and after
“we sleep the sleep of love.”




















44 old applause
