momentary loss of concentration

Between the moments

Of work

And life,

My mind often

Drifts

Away

From the constant glow

Of the screen

In front

Of me.

Lingering over

Her

Body

And her lips

Pressed

Against mine,

Embracing

With arms

And legs

Entwined

Again.

Forever.

Between

The spreadsheets

And numbers

And emails

And calls to be returned,

The curves

Of her

Return

To me,

Like the scent

Of a distant flower

On a long ago night

From my childhood

Memories

Growing up in Alabama-

Maybe a magnolia,

Or perhaps

Honeysuckle.

So soft and subtle,

Yet noticeably

There-

Distinctly sweet

And delicate.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

December 29, 2011