Brown sugar lather slithers over me in comfort, as the bubbles slowly creep their way to the top. Rubbing my hands up and down the length of my legs my muscles give way to the long day and relax in the hot water. Soft, smooth sounds of Jazz reach my inner ear, and I realize every chord struck, every note played is done in a delicate balance and rhythm. My eyes flutter closed, as the distinct sound of a saxophone is heard. I find that aching, pulsing place, and my fingers begin caressing life back into my soul.

1 comment:

cjn said...

I find this poem very sensual. I'm not sure if that was your intent, but it is full of strong, descriptive words. It is wonderful!