It is
But a whisper
Falling gently
From the air
A sound lost
In the quiet
As I watch you
Brush your hair.
By the mirror
Of the dresser
Fading perfume
Lingers still
Slowly drawn
Into the memory
Of loves vibration
Wanton will.
My shirt
About your shoulders
Your reflection
Meets my eyes
A wisping smile
Soon forgotten
As a ponytail
You tie.