The early spring rain is tracing her fingertips down the glass again.
But she cannot steal me away from this moment with you,
your intoxicating presence permeating my every pore.
She pours now, competing for my gaze, my breath.
You already stole that from her, from me.
Sinking your roots into my depths, warm, nurturing, and ready for life.
I have no choice but to give myself over to you.
I abide now here in your shadow, desiring little more than to lay myself bare
beneath your strength, your aroma, your stamen.
Though the rain casts herself against the panes, I am already saturated
Memories captured, stories told - Alicia Bock Photography http:www.alicia-bock.com.