A bit of you,
A sip of you,
Tarried awhile on my lips,
Announced in arrival in passion's wake,
And streamed as vapor in sad wakeful parting.
How to share a measure of this air
When, even slightest trace intoxicates my moment,
To send me spinning on the precipice of delight,
Falling here or there, or…maybe, there…

A tiny pleasure of you
Carried along upon soft sweater's weave,
Even now, around and betwixt my arms,
A millionth of a minum stokes my senses.

Oh, the ache of far-off's anticipation!
Sweet and, yet, bitter all the same;
Never resented, in absence represented,

Only memory to revive the flagging flame.
This bit of you makes
Whole presence more real
And…more distant all the same,
A gentle teasing tale of past and future,
Melted into frozen today.