y Pretty turn of phrase
Hands that feel like velvet
A voice that smells like summer
The way you caress my name
And the tiny glitter in your step

You were the one to win
The one to admit
The first one to sin
And the only I think
Is alive

Quick eyes
And sexy standings
Shoes that beat up souls
And a shirt that proclaims
God is only inside

Summer scents fade to blue
Irises rimmed in gold
And a sunset liking the morning
Waves that smooth the sheets
A sparkle of honest amid
Whole lies

And I feel your body when I sleep
My dreams are fogged by your touch
Amid the lights and scents
I want to see it again
You haven't the shadows that are empty

And sometimes I do wish
God was inside.

06/26/2002

Author's Note: This is the only poem about Brett I have. I find it difficult to put him into a box or into a set of words....He has too much of himself.

Posted on 06/26/2002
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