Sunday Morning

Opening my eyes
light makes them react.
Not alone with change.
Superficial feelings the canvas,
lay under the artisan's brush.
Vulnerability, melt desire into color.
Sweet scent rising
like baked sugar, open the file.
The closest distance between two points;
a straight line to my soul.
Closer than touch.
Familiarity in the overstuffed chair.
Seduction in every atom.

Begin,

"The ritual!"