Jars of Moments

Your fingers trace memories on my spine,
Your shaded eyes a world of their own,
Clothes scattered along a faded palm line,
Belonging to a time long gone.

Words don't belong in this space,
Lit by rays of golden lazy light,
A space where my hair veils your face,
From the jumble of day and night.

Jars lay haphazardly in my cupboard,
Precious moments caught by my heart,
Jealously guarded, though absurd,
Afraid that stopped time will start.

Stars wink a hazy song,
The breeze kisses our bruised skin,
Time promised us forever and long,
Our marks tell a story that has been.

Love as a phrase is fickle,
Sighs encompass more within,
As do eyes with a teary trickle,
And a honey breath on your skin.

So I hold a small lilac jar close,
Smile at the present marching by,
The world fuzzy with dawn's dose,
Watching the sun-kissed bed where you lie.