Synesthetic You
for Tammy
-- Big Frank Dickinson
The image of your touch is
A girl in pigtails running toward swings.
The sound of your skin is a gentle wind
Playing with cattails on a prairie pond.
Your breath is of a time
Long gone yet still to come.
Your voice carries the fragrance
Some pealed peaches pushing my tongue.
And the taste of your heart is
The siren song gone long.
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