When I See You

It's not the curve of your lips;
it's the taste of your smile.
Melting marshmallows and cool, sharp chocolate.
Crumbs of graham cracker stick to the tongue

It can't be the touch of your hand;
it's got to be the scent of your skin.
Wood smoke invades, pervades, lingers,
coating everything in it's comforting aroma.

I won't accept the words that you say;
I want the lilt of your voice.
Tones that flow from one wave to the next,
Ebbing at my state of consciousness.

It's never been the tone of your muscles;
it will always be the power of your presence.
Tugging back on my hand, jerking me away,
When I've dared to venture too far.

You're Beautiful to Me