Author S. K. Nicholas

stood in the kitchen

with my hands upon your hips

and

your lips touching mine

the warm september sun

shines through the open door

leading to a garden

you played in as a child

sometimes

it’s the smallest things

that tell you

it’s real love

the scent of perfume

and the wind

dancing with your hair

dreams and eyelashes

fluttering

as I lift your jumper

caressing the curves

of your breasts

these moments

wont last

there will come a time when

they’ll be gone

lost like

all those yesterdays

yet

this sunday

will always stay with me

eyes gazing into mine

the taste of your mouth

and the beat of your heart

haunting me

forever

to the edges of

eternity