you bloom;
eight petals flush against my ribs
in the warmth of
my centre.
Your fragrance
entrances me;
reminds me of the valley
and the rocky coast
so far yet always inside.
There is music in your colour;
notes repeated
to form a harmony remembered
in more than my ear.
Golden pollen
adorns my body;
words from your mouth;
remembrances of where your lips have touched.
I open,
curling back to expose to you
everything you have shown me to be yours.
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