Ode to the flowers that bloom at night

He knew not what he sought more in her, were it the unfulfilled thoughts
Of years long past in which he sought the sweet intoxicating scent…
that scent of his favorite flower…
The Night Blooming Jasmine Flower
In which he knew she wore the essence of to tease and tantalize his senses…

Or was it the thought of her…
Her alone, long hair flowing, blowing in and through the breezes…
The breezes that gently touched his very soul,
as with each thought of her that filled him, over filled him…
That in which permeated him…
His senses, his thoughts, his senses again, as he would smell and feel
As her presence swept over him as softly and as gently as
the night breeze whispers blew ever so gently over him…
Body, mind, spirit, soul…

-Reba

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