Her hair, smelling of Coconut Oil
Takes me back to you.
She too is black.
Once my passion boiled for you
In coconut scented sheets.
I wonder, does her skin
Leave coconut on bedclothes
And does her man’s nose
Linger where bodies meet?
Do I sin
When I yearn for coconuts
Firm to the touch
And soft skin
I can not touch?
K Morris - Poet 
A poignant poem, Kevin.
Thank you, Vivienne. I’m glad you like my poem.