Clouds drift by
Tumbleweeds
In a prairie of blue
Lazy like lovers
Languid after long laconic
Kisses of
Lips
Hands
Thighs
Mingling and joining
In harmony
Perfect like the way
Your hair frames your face
As we lay on the grass
The twilight reflects
Off the green in your
Yes oh so smoky gaze
Mixing with the reds and oranges
Of not quite yesterday