The smooth sound of your voice
leaves an echo
dangling from my ear.

Its weight
floats in darkness
like, a pearl
night winds call the moon;

and words luster
massaging my fingertips
with memory.

Softly, you kissed them
and whispered “I love you” –

Your accent swirling
in the gleam
of wine glass and woman’s neck
shadowed by candlelight,

by the warm musk of ocean
tangled in lace curtains,

as evening perspired
most tenderly.


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Music on this page ©Bruce DeBoer