Lingering Scent

When we parted,

I could still smell 

your scent on the

tips of my fingers. 

It lingered

there when I was

lying awake in bed;

dreaming of you next

to me. With gentle

kisses to my lips and

a hand on my breasts,

grasping in desperation.

And now as I lye among green

pastors with the heat of

the sun radiating down

on my skin, I imagine,

with a delicate touch,

your fingers gliding

across my skin.

And the smell of your

scent carried by

the wind.