You smell like an old book,
my love,
and how could I not sense
every story,
every word,
every punctuation mark,
even the space between
words
has an unexperienced smell
when I touch the shape of your pages...

The unwritten messages
between nations
dwell in the middle of your flavored land
and find no need to be noticed
when you're around.

You smell like an age
reincarnating my breath
within an unperceived meaning
of every other dream.

The night loses its flavor
when you approach--
the stars are quiet and count
the time
through your blood

say no more words
let me be the
pause
and listen how I smell
the song towards the cradle

sleep...sleep...
my poem