first of may: in faery lands forlorn

I met a lady in the meads,
Full beautiful—a faery’s child,
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.

from "La Belle Dame Sans Merci", John Keats

All from my flickr.

waking up to you

a mess of hair
and sleepy limbs
sprawled across the bed
tangled in the sheets

i trace constellations
in the freckles on your back
your lukewarm skin
soft beneath my fingers

sun rays slip into
our secret hiding place
through the blinds
illuminating

heavy-lidded eyes
grey and brown
like the trunk of the tree
in my backyard

you mouth
sweet nothings into my neck
your murmurs resonating
in my very core

a hand splayed
over the dazed thrum of my heart
and your lips meet mine
in a sighing kiss