Lovingly laundered.

I see your love in the distance; like assorted, sorbet-coloured laundry items on a washing line blowing in the breeze and dancing before my eyes. Carefully arranged and rather beautiful actually, flapping together in the Spring sunshine. Quite orderly and just so; seeming quite tantalisingly within reach. If only I could climb that wall. Would that I could unpeg it and bury my face in softness; and inhale the sweet scent of you.