I sifted through the mound 
of lightly tinkered implements, ornaments, embellishments.
Curious to comb fingers through light whisps of cotton candy hair stirring on breath.
Trice eyes met.
Chattels of connection melt in the swelter of touch.
Bonds of time fling affairs out of space.
In no ritual way
I swallow words as readily as lemon tarts.
One hundred ways to say
I am yours
Though never mind
The crumbling gateau of cream filled sublime.