he doesn't know it
but when i lay in his bed
my mind is stringing together
adjectives and airy phrases,
trying unsuccessfully to
pin down the emotions
he breathes into me.

he doesn't know it
but when i kiss his skin,
i imagine my lips
peppering his chest
neck and arms with
ink stains that morph
into words like "lover"
and "darling".

he doesn't know it
but the smile he shares
with me under the covers
is pressed firmly
into the corners
of my heart,
begging to be immortalized
in words.

My lover is
     strong, kind and tender,
but when he held me in his arms
he confessed that he felt
                                          less of a man
because we were clothed only in
vulnerability
but hadn't known each other yet.
                   "Any other guy would jump at this opportunity" he said.
"But you're not any other guy,"
I said.
"And that's why I'm laying here"

Bones forgot the pull,
the tug and the grimace
that happens
when someone burrows
between the lungs to live.
Bones forgot the burn and sting
that heart feels when it stops,
when it jumps to throat, skips.
Body forgot that emotions
meant brain AND heart,
eyes, tongue and lips.
Girl forgot that boy
could kiss and make
her forget
all that was forgotten.