This is who you are, my dearest

This is who you are, my dearest

First sight:
     Between whitewashed walls, windows to the sunlight,
     A full rosebud married a gauzy sunbeam
     And birthed you in a wrap of blue cotton.

First sound:
     Through the payphone's clangs, through precarious phone lines,
     I found honey even in your surprised voice
     And I heard striking sunsets and tinkling evenings.

First scent:
     The car contained it and offered it up to me -
     A commercial scent, but rising off your skin -
     That said, "Heaven comes to those who wait".

First touch:
     The hand I'd sworn to protect through fantastic daydreams
     Held mine; soft yet firm, it needed no protection,
     It gave and took love along the length of fingers.

First taste:
     Lips I had dared not glance at, even in daydreams
     Waited patiently till I could reach them.
     A hint of salt from an ocean of desire.