Linen

This tired tongue tastes

of pearl white grapes.

My wine drenched body sinks,

drowns among the tangle of ivory sheets.

Soft the scent of summer's breeze

that pulls me into

the deepest sleep.

Hold me fast

my cotton cocoon,

where one's weariness and dreams meet.

Nightly I abandon my burdens

in the hush

of that sacred space.

The white light embrace