White Cotton T-Shirt

Pressed against him,
His back to me, his head on my shoulder,
Heat passing;
The heat of a summer reborn.
His dark hair against my nose,
The smell of him filling my senses;
That sweet smell of his,
A smell only he can master.

A white cotton t-shirt
Emblazoned with memories past.
Memories of him.
A white cotton t-shirt,
Dried with sunlight and fresh air,
Smelling of trees, of summer,
Of him.

His body against mine,
So friendly, so endearing, trusting.
He knows not what he does.
He lies across me,
Front to back, cheek to cheek;
He undoes me.

He knows it not.