Earthy smell of your skin spread across the sheets
Curled up with your tan litheness, I watch
Green block letters on your t-shirt rise and fall.
Wishing it was more than your breath propelling them up and down,
I curse my own heart for swelling

The photo breathes joy
I leave it out. It urges
me to be better

Every night I want
to talk.  For you I hold back
despite the nausea

The fog's now cleared, and
will not again enshroud my
view of your gold gate

There’s a reason why
dancing under moonlight is a cliche.
The euphoria is relentless

Pink behind the rising moon
Your hipbone beneath my right hand
knees clash to Latin percussion
Together we count  
1 2 3…5 6 7

Trading vulnerabilities over pork and pasta,
I feel, for one awful moment,
The pain of my daughter’s contempt
You reassure a mother after being kicked by her child
123...567

Supine silence on yellow grass mats. Faint from heat
I feel sad when you recount
how I charged your phone first
You deserve kindness.  I am kind
1 2 3…5 6 7

Your laugh resounds above all
A solo from the audience
As proud and loud as any Jazzman’s improvisation  
encouraging us all to do better
1 2 3…5 6 7

Earthy smell of your skin spread across the sheets
Curled up with tan litheness, I watch
green block letters rise and fall.
Wishing it was more than breath propelling them up and down,
I curse my own heart for swelling
123...

Frost is longing.
I longed for the thaw as soon as I saw
Icy blue eyes and a navy Patagonia
Reflected up from a small square of light.

Longing to see you but settling for bantered texts and drunken facetimes
That only make me long to know you more.

Longing to clasp your neck and pull you to me,
Over a copper table in candlelight.

Longing to collapse twelve days into one
So we can take the next step down a path
Of myriad possibilities.

Frost is two roads not yet contemplated.
We have barely set out.
There will be many chances to diverge,
Each one a "what could have been."
But now there is only one reality -
A fantasy of who I want you to be
Whatever we will be, we will never be this.

Frost is nipping at my nose
With teeth like wintergreen chiclets.
I have eaten roasted chestnuts.
Seduced by the smell,
I am always disappointed by the taste

Yet, ever optimistic, I try again.
And again I come closer
To making fantasy real.
All we can have is close enough.

Frost is on the window.
Scratch with your finger to see through.
Delight in how it rolls under your nails before it melts.