Chuckle of content

 
 
You would not think I could forget  
the touch of you, light as silk I recall,  
then of velvet, satin ,finest linen  
each the aura that is you.  
Would I could steal the cloth, take  
home to my bed wrapped round  
dreams of you uterine beside me.  
of skin, fine hairs  
glistening in morning sun, musk laden  
with scents to rival those of lily  
confirmed each time I kiss the  
sacred place for which there is no name  
save ours, so secret none shall know.  
There is little time to wait, each  too far.  
Now my memory is revived, I had not forgotten.  
How could I forget ? As the lemon bowl,  
before the dinner plate this lapse will  
cleanse my tongue, taste again  
the sweet  I  know so well.  
The cries,silent moments,  
wait the chuckle of content.