view zoomed
on the jacaranda blooms
breathing the air of home
without a care
as I sit out, on the veranda alone
thinking of her
something about the day
and the season
for some reason
I’m reminded of the scent of her perfume
the sensual care of her womanhood
and it feels real enough that I have a chill in my bone
so quickly I descend from the horny layer
that is, the stratum of my daydream
with but one question on my mind still
do I regret that she’s gone or am I happier on my own?
© Heath Muchena
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