That place you hold.
So close to you.
In your heart and head.
Remind the details.
The creak of boards.
So old and worn.
Beams above our heads hang low.
Sofa covered in blankets warm.
Crackling noises fill the room.
The smell of firewood.
Music too, fills the space that needs us there.
The taste of wonderful things.
Strawberries, chocolate and wicked things.
How it dribbled down my chin.
How you came to lick it off.
And how I managed to do it again.
Dancing, kissing, laughing too.
A haze bought on.
By much champagne.
How we sipped and linked our arms.
How we walked home in the rain.
Ran through puddles deep as pools.
Standing under awning old, flowers growing up its frame.
Fumbling for the old iron key.
How the warmth and glow from inside.
Warmed us down to our souls.
How we laughed and smiled that way.
How my lips parted yours that way.
How we slowly came undressed.
Clothes a damp and crumpled mess.
How the glow of fire light.
Lit our bodies on that night.
Crimson hue and a sheen so slight.
Made you shine.
Your body bright.
…On that night…