The pattern of the quilt
upon your bed spread
across my mind
it slipped to the floor easily
as we between the sheets

you tell me
their color escapes you
as I have finally done

tore myself away
rather now when
everything about you
bids me come
and come again
in spontaneity
not a drop ever spills
in familiar ritual

Thoughts of patterns
fell apart as did the
night shade gown
covering all that lay inside
a tiny touch of slitted pink
would not be deprived its touch

upon the pattern of our love
the scent of your perfume
remains upon my hands and
your touch upon me stays