Our lives are woven around the stories we tell
His of being not enough of anything and almost believing
Mine of misplaced sexuality and battles with daemons
His eyes devour me when they meet
Our touches ignite something
Our connection stronger than either expected
Bigger than either of us alone
It’s a garden in this city we’ve never known
Where flowers are questions and answers nectar
Rich and verdant with thought
Dripping in silken innuendo
Each honeyed sip crystalline intensity
Each taste a respite from life’s ennui
With each delicate wing beat creating cyclones
We circle and joust like butterflies in the heat