Come To My Senses

Intoxicating.

Scent of cedar and aging leather,

of ancient tomes on walnut shelves,

mysterious, magical, memorable.

I crave more.

Voice as smooth as honeyed bourbon

drank deep from leaded crystal tumblers,

softly swirling cigar smoke.

Deep, dreamy, delicious.

Taste of sea salt on his lips,

Sun-soaked Californian surf

Washing over my senses.

Skin sand-scrubbed, soft as chamois,

Sending shocks along my spine

where his fingertips brush my back.

So real I can almost see him

for just a moment,

when I wake.