butter and honey days

the skin snaps, bursting
and the juice from fruit, warmed
by the sun
rushes
to flood my mouth
and run down my chin,
land
sticky on my chest,
drips,
like kisses
like sweet drops of sweat
on sun-browned skin,
in orchards that hum
with
ten-thousand tiny wings

hand in hand
briefly, just
for a moment
now and
again,
skin on skin
feels good, and so
i give
in
and let
the "soft animal of my body" just love
what it loves,
and let
this blessed
sensuous
beauty
in.