His Scent Invites Me In

His scent arrives before he crosses through the door,
A warm invisible hand that knows my name;
It slips beneath my ribs, then asks for more,
And turns my quiet bloodstream into flame.

I follow it where sleeping shadows bloom,
Past silver windows dreaming of the sea;
His fragrance builds a staircase through the room,
Each breath unlocking somewhere deep in me.

It smells of rain that fell on burning roses,
Of midnight wrapped inside a velvet sky;
A secret garden only longing knows is,
Where even distant stars come wandering by.

And when his scent surrounds me, soft and slow,
I lose the door, and gladly let him in to glow.