SOFT THINGS

Soft

Is the breeze

Through the open sliding glass door

Of our hotel in Majorca.

Soft

Are my eyes

As they widen

And the sun shines upon them.

Soft

Is the volume

On the stereo

As Miles plays

“It Never Entered My Mind”.

Soft

Are your sweet,

Lambent lips,

Pressing gently and joyfully

Against mine.

Soft

Is your gentle voice

Purring sweetness

In my willing ears.

Soft

Is your belly

Against mine

As we make long, languid,

Magical love.

Soft

And loose

Is my blood,

I’m so relaxed here.

Soft

Is the water

And the waves

Lapping against our skins

As we go float in it.