His face is etched into
the farthest corners of my mind
like a snapshot
photograph of days gone by.
The great ocean current of his lips
sweep me off my feet
and his sea salt eyes call me
deeper
deeper
deeper still.
His hands soar like an albatross
exploring the distant lands
between
my shoulder blades and above
my thighs.
Like an icy northerly
his voice cools me to the bone
and speaks of times
when he wasn't like the seashore
and I wasn't like a map.
