On this hazy, mountain morning,  I long for your comfort, the softness of your breasts.   No bed is soft save you, no place is home, save you.  As we undress,  I watch each covering fall like the leaves outside signalling rest.   The quiver of your lips when we make love,  the touch of your hands, finding the landscape of love, across your mountains and valleys.   Each of them sweet honey.   Your music love voice is a dream to my heart as it slumbers but awakens suddenly!



Love Stories, Love Notes