It's always your words that undress me.
Sobriquets, honeyed and multiple--
neck slowed over by narrator's
pale parlance. It's always my hands
that undress you. Motion diverse,
more adept than I expected. My
fingers feel separate and strange.
Our skin feels so starkly the same.
Dialectic crack in monologue,
made soft by the hot tongue of discourse.
Your open vowels morning-like, balmy.
I want you phonetically, fondly.
Our languages, various as Babel's.
We touch like snakes in love.

My love for you exceeds any love in the galaxy
To be without you for a second would turn to be a life time,
And every moment I spend without you,
I spend searching
Searching the world for the love that you gave to me
The love that we built together,
The love that sustains the generations,
This one and all the next
And until the day that you return
I will be a slave, a vagabond, another lost in love
Until you come back, I’ll hold your photo to my heart like it was the only hint of life among all the death, pain, and destruction
And when you return I’ll hold you in my arms like the Bible in a sinner’s palms asking for forgiveness
And in infinity my love for you will persist.