My first impression was of Jasmine,
sweet and gentle, tangled in my hair --
kite tails in park trees, lingering
after reality works free and floats
Your kisses were lilacs pressed
between the pages of my eyelids,
impressions, outlines, beautiful
only in my periphery.
I hid there, in multi-colored snowfall
making angels below
the bowed head
of the crepe myrtle,
dappled by scented sunshine
and barefoot shade.