Drinking scotch, under the stars, with you.

I follow the heart pace
        prancing in my chest
Feeling the spiritual pang
                keep time
to the moments pulsing on, over, into
an Earth breath- taken between,
         sips of Drambuie
as we sit together, pellucid.

Each liquored lick echoing.
          Intoxication moves like lavender honey.
I follow the incitement back, and find 
          you fusing to my heart,
then thrusting me toward you

        -For you I am,

Passion black hole.

Bluff hidden kisses.

Gin lime lips in summer fever.

Isolde, raising white sails on return to Tristan.

A bellflower pressed between your poetry.

Godiva, legs dangling over the back bumper
of a gray Jeep Cherokee.

Sun warmed breast to chest slow dance
the soles of feet remembering,
dirt on hardwood.
Jackson Browne sings,
"It's no place for your tender heart now."

In the garden with you,
gathering Freya's grass
into our scotch glasses.