Senses

I look at you and I see
my awkward teenage years
the beginning days of
a date with my vices
one I shall always crave

I catch your scent
and my world turns
a little faster, but
time slows down like
a chronological prison

I feel your touch
and my skin prickles
I want more than just
a fleeting caress--
or a remembrance

I hear your voice
and I feel like a child
who knows poems
you were blessed with
a healing balm

I still can taste you
like a sun-ripened peach
juicy and sweet
dripping down my chin
and filling my senses

© 2009 John Hardesty