I remember the twilight of that August evening,
The smell of jasmine along the country road,
The golden moon etched against
the diamonded sky,
And the call of the whip-poor-will
piercing the silence.
But what I remember the most was
The smell of your silky hair against my face,
And the racing of my heart after every kiss,
You imprinted on my chest.
I lay here in bed, alone
Music drifting in through my window,
Fantasizing about you and
Living that moment, again and again and again.
