While I wage war
on this cracked concrete
of my resolve.

Hold it open

I'll step in
to gauge the distance
before we fall.

Hold on tight

So that we might
not trip over our
own defenses.

And these two hearts
clinging to hinges.

I'm not much of a cook
and he doesn't much care
as long as I wear his favorite apron
and a smile.
I've ruined plenty of dinners
taste testing from his lips,
adding too much spice,
and setting off the smoke alarm.
He prefers a long simmer to a
fast boil, and we pour on more
Italian seasoning.

When dawn
breaks through the room
gently greeting us with
endless possibilities, my
heart wakes.

Dusk
falls
on our
decision
to call it a night
and to remain indecisive.

Tentative truths pass through your lips

a heavy shift in silence follows
your eyes

always give you away

bending your fragile tale

under heavy scrutiny
your cheeks

flush crimson

and I watch

your nose

grow.

Shadows show me the lines we draw
between right and wrong.
Black and white.
They linger long after the white hot heat
of our romance
to drown us in conscience filled dreams
that wake us, breathless, and wanting more.