I am writing to you, Love
your finger slides across my bottom lip.
I love your face.
I can feel my hands caress you.
Your skin, so warm, inviting.
Your chest rises, I watch.
I taste your mouth, taste heat.
I am gazing, eyes clouded to reality
seeing you in the cracked plaster, ecru, neutral, non colour walls.
We know not of poverty,
when we are rich in love