Aura Listening

It was an autumn day,
a blend of almond wood smoke and love.
You shared hand smoothed chopsticks from Vietnam,
I shared the memories.

I felt at home in your home.
It was as if it were another skin
an extension
of all that you believed in.

You didn't laugh
at my lack of skill
with the chopsticks-
instead you served me tea
strained through love and patience.

The pale colored oriental rug
the perfect palate for our
praise of afternoon togetherness.
Your smooth delicate skin
yielded beneath my fingertip's
patient exploration.

A long time sitting,
our postures enfolded
one another's
daring and fear simultaneously.
We each held our breath
not wanting the magic to end.

Our hearts
went from room to room
then we descended
the wide dimly lit stone staircase toward
our time.
A place not found on a clock
but in our dreams
of what the moment had for us.