Smells of warm apple pie baking slowly in my mother’s kitchen
cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, and other nose-tickling and mouth-watering pungent spices
Tastes of creamy, smooth, bitter coffee
chocolate hues and earthy tones that ground me, settling me into my day
Looks like a mountain valley colored by a sleepy nature
tiny red, orange, yellow, brown, and faded green petticoated dancers
Feels like a lover’s hands on the small of my back
holding me close, pulling me closer, pressing two into one
Sounds like a base line so deep my bones reverberate
in remembrance of words and phrases spoken in my soul’s language.
Pleasure, to me,
is heightened senses.