I hear the surf that thunders to land on the beach who awaits to be pounded and cooled at last. I smell the scent of candles that rides on waves of music through your whispers of sweet surrender.

I see the glistening shimmer of skin only visible in flickering glimpses of moonlight, parting at the will of a tropical breeze that blows a tender breath on trickling beads of salt and lust.

And hear your garden quivering against the hardness of leaves on boundaries, slapping in rhythmic pulses in natural meter until the count is ebbing into the glorious silence so that hearts beat with Earth's only truth. That the storm is over, only to leave it's steamy memory in rising mist and ready again to settle into the dawn's sweet kiss.