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:::DAYDREAMING ::: In the Winter of my daydreaming, I remember/How your skin smelled like roasted almonds./I remember how, to my parched lips,you tasted/As we breathed each other in, and out, and in again./I remember the rough texture of your hands/On my body, exploring as yet, undiscovered places./I remember your sighs and your breathing/The scent of your aftershave on my cheek./How your body and mine combined to fit/Like a fine Italian glove enveloping the whole of me./I remember the heat of our passion combined/In sweet kisses so deep they would make us ache/ For the want and the need of each other./I remember the rhythmic poetry of our lives that/We wrote together as we honoured each other's lives/And turned them from our own selfishness into five/ That moved us from the temporal to the Divine.:::(c) 2012 - Gwen Beauregard - All Rights Reserved