The Lilac

The lilac bushes fill the yard with spring --
Sweet lavender fill up the branches' tips
Above the heart leaves -- the odors always bring
May in until the petals touch my lips.

I want to touch your lips, my fingers feel
The roughened smoothness as I seek to seal
Your breath a moment, feel the breath release
Around my finger tip a subtle breeze.

The breeze is bringing in the lilac smell
To permeate the house, to fill it well
And bring the garden past the window sill
To tell us secrets only it can tell.

The nightgown grips your hips in lavender
Silk wrinkles riding up to show your thighs.
Your body beckons as your tongue denies --
I only want our rhythms to recur.

You shut the window, cutting off the breeze
That brings the lilacs deep into our home -- a
 Soft scent that slowly dissipates until
We lose the sweetness, joy of its aroma.

The lilac rustles silently, attracts
The bees made silent by the glass that acts
Transparent as it closes off, retracts
The full experience, now rendered wax.

And who are you who used to love the garden?
And why have you denied us what we loved
When we chose this, our house, to make our life?
Why won't you smell the lilacs next to me?