now

life is good.
take time to smell the roses.
live in the now.

home

home is the trace of her perfume on a silk-sheet bed
a lingering aroma that pails in comparison
but still carries the subtle nuance of her return
It's where cords of long dark hair are found clinging tightly
on clothing several days after the last rendezvous
Home is the laughter and smile
from a pretty girl
whose tempestuous glare beckons
for her back to be fully arched
as sweat covered bodies let out moans in exasperation
The sea of blankets we sail within
remind that the journey we share
is home
for as long as either side chooses it to be