I watch my finger paint circles on a saffron skin –
Skin that’s soft, flush and mysterious,
Like an epitome… but something “new” mixed within,
Like aloewoods that drive me delirious.
The smell of green apples reach my nose.
But now… here…. it’s no sin to a bite.
I’m Haunted by a dark, mysterious rose
That’s met with a comfort that sets everything right.
Kiss me, darling, kiss me here.
For here we’ve found our garden.