fallen verses

The smell of honey and rose clings to you.
I search the annals of memory
to ask if this was always so:
that your scent was intoxicating.

I remember how your touches would leave me weak,
bending as a reed in your hands.

I remember how your kisses would inhale me
and I would live in your veins.

I remember your passion rolling me like waves over sand.

I remember how the sound of your voice
would ring me like crystal.

Now, I am drunk on the nearness of you-
the silky white of your breasts,
the insistence of your touch.