Our Opus of Love

I remember the orchestra of spark bench kisses.  The crescendo of your eyes closing slowly and building up of tension till our lips touched.
I remember the bass beat hard in my chest as you lips parted to invite more passion.
I remember the subtle staccato of our lips parting for a fraction of a second only to connect in a rush of anticipation.
I remember the alto of your moans as your voice traveled through my soul.
I remember the dulcet tones of your hands running through my hair and the tops of your fingers at the back of my neck.
I remember the lonesome note high in the air as we parted and took in sharp breaths.
I remember the orchestra of our heart strings as we composed an opus of love.