Calloused fingers of work worn hands treck ever so softly atop a mountainous chain anchored with her back. Like velvet is her soft porcelain skin when touched. Birthmark by birthmark you explore every inch of a body seemingly sculpted by Michelangelo. Outside an open window wind of the willows whisper to you mornings secrets. Your tired eyes stare ceaselessly at a whitewashed ceiling vigorously attempting to decipher it's craterous texture. That Aroma of her balmy perfume sends you into trance as the pitter patter of mornings rain captivates your listening ears. Traveled far have your fingers and found themselves have they wrapped in her loose mahogany curls spinning each lock around your fingers spool. A twilight sun breaks from behind pastel clouds illuminating your rooms muted grey's with angelic gold's. Esoteric is each ray of light that dances effortlessly throughout the valleys of your silky sheets. Empty now is your mind of thought, roll from atop your back you do; falling into her warm grasp you find your gaze met by her sea green storied eyes. Tightly do you embrace as together you hold on to what time be left with each other. Its there in each memory of her that you find yourself longing for that which you so senselessly let slip away.