Shawn L. Bird

your breath

drifts across my nostrils

soft as dandelion dreams,

floats past my ears

whispering mystic riddles,

touches my lips

with promised kisses,

lingers like laughter

o’er our tomorrow.

.

.

Pondering workshop advice from Garry Gottfriedson at Word on the Lake.  “Love poems should use soft sounds,” and “never mention the word love…”