Scott Matthews Cinnamon
Your warmth in the cold
Lingers with the scent of cinnamon on my clothes
Our bodies radiate to the bone
To hold you near as December retaliates
We can wait
Tomorrow will change
Your breath in the sun
Cools like the rain breezed in and cleansed everyone
Our bodies free and overcome
To hold you near as July breathes headily
You're you in me
Savour our senses of love
Not a drop goes to waste
Gave her the scent of my touch
Her kiss leaves a taste
To calm my thirst
Starlings murmurate
Like clouds of cinders up in smoke
Our bodies shadow play the role
To fly without fear as we mirror their silhouettes
Savour our senses of love
Not a drop goes to waste
Gave her the scent of my touch
Her kiss leaves a taste
Under cover of trust
All our fears turn to dust
Your warmth in the cold
Lingers with the scent of cinnamon