Let me show you the world between my hands.
Delicate, tender palms cup your doubting cheeks.
Let me chase away the fears that linger at the edges of your mouth.
If I bite your ******* frenzied kiss,
let it bleed passion into mine.
I yearn to taste the sweet elixir that lingers on your lips.
Let me show you the world between my hands.
Seeking eyes meet your daunting brow,
and I wonder if somehow
you don't see the beauty in what you are.
Let me show you the world, you need not look far.
The beauty of the world dwells
in the bottomless wells of your eyes,
freckled with glinting greens and glimmering blues.
The world is you.  
My world is you.
Let me show you the love between two hearts.
It grows in between the spaces in which
we breathe in the beauty of each other.
It sleeps in our naked souls and wakes when they entwine.
Let me show you the deep valleys that lay
unexplored in your heart.
Let me run through your fields,
as the wind ripples wheat like a sea.
Let me dance with my bare feet on your raw, damp earth.
Let me show you my heart can be your hearth.

Let me show you the world between my hands.

Fleeting dreams broke away
at the stark knocking
of harsh light on my temples.
I grasp for them as they float upwards
like balloons on wind,
strings swirling just out of reach.
Farewell dream.
I will watch you ascend
from the rumpled landscape
of my mattress.
A memory I can't quite remember
but am endeared to.
No alarms are necessary here
besides the universe
beckoning for acknowledgment
of its emblazoned display.
The birds delight
at their chatter
beneath my window.
Oh, they have so much to say.
Quarrel or song?
A beautiful, contemplative banter
that waltzes up past windowsills.
I smile and hum along
for the morning greets me,
reluctant as I am to answer it.
The dust dances in the rays of sunlight
streaming through gauzy layers of rippled fabric
clinging to my window frame.
Such a shame that I should
seek to bar the sun from creeping in
and setting upon my sleeping self.

I drag pen across paper
and watch the ball point
linger,
as do you,
ever present on my mind,
still after all this time.

You are a flower that blooms
in my center
and I catch glimpses
of your sweet fragrance
with every move I make.  

With each deep breath
I take
I long to hear you echo it.

You are the sun that
kisses my temples
and dances on the mountaintops
that make up the peaks
of my cheeks.

You are my temple
because the thought of you
is sanctuary.

And yet, the thought of you is scary.

A wild and powerful creature
you are
that I sit and watch from afar.

Never would I think to cage you,
only to engage you
for you are much too fierce
to lock within my rib cage
next to my fragile heart.

I long for you to coax it from behind is bars.

I am much too lost
in your wilderness to
remain tame.

All my stoic efforts are
soon to be in vain
because you are a racing river
that has swept me away.

I find myself speechless
with so much to say
and an idle tongue,
as though my voice has
been carried away
on the butterfly wings
that softly hum
anytime I feel your presence.

But how could one fit your essence into simple words?

You are beyond so much more
than words could ever speak,
especially for a meek mouse
who hides behind her rosy cheeks
and tendrils of copper hair.

You tie my tongue,
yet it dares to delight
at every chance it has
to bite at you and
dance with yours.

I long to dance with you
as two become one,
such as the hummingbird and the flower.  

You are the flower,
vibrant and graceful,
and I am a bird who can't keep still,
for my mind does race
and my heart beats with such insistence
at the thought of your existence.

In everything I do I am reminded of you.

Your face leaps forth
from the landscape of my life,
and in your eyes
I see divine light.

If I only ever get
to watch you from my hiding places,
I will revel in my heartbreak, but it will be alright.

I am honored that your light
shines on me
for you are an amazing being
to behold.

You are my muse.

As a boat takes to water,
I have taken to you.
I yearn to hold you up
and carry you towards
wild adventures.
Yet I feel as though
you are the sea
and I am just me.
I am blissfully lost
in your blue and rolling waves,
content to be shipwrecked
by you.
You have the power
to effortlessly crush me
in an instant,
but I would gladly sink
into your depths.
After feeling your hands,
I could never dream of
returning to land.
For now I delight
in all of the sights
of you,
dazzling and vast.
Tentatively, I have cast
my feelings to your waters,
waiting for a bite.
A sailor I must be,
content to wait for
the rest of my life.

Namaste.

Bring yourself into my circle
so that your light may shine
my way.
Allow us to delight in
how two kindred souls
do frolic & play.
Exhale all worry
for it does dance our peace away.
As my light now shines with you
we both illuminate the day.

Namaste.

If you could put a kiss
in a paper bag, and
stick it in a windowsill,
so when the sun spills through
it keeps the kiss warm,
but doesn't spoil its charm. . .

If you could leave the kiss
for an unsuspecting windowsill-goer
to happen upon and
coax a smile out of,
or maybe a tear.
Maybe the slightest gasp of fear
that their kiss will escape
if they open the bag too fast. . .

If you sat in the shadows
and watched their gasping
and frantic grasping at
their lost expression of love,
the broken wing to their dove;
how long would you watch them
teeter on the edge of lust,
regret, and longing?

Until their head was spinning
and you were left grinning
to yourself because you know
they've already hopelessly fallen
despite their elaborate battle
for balance?

Isn't solid ground an illusion after all?
Aren't we all caught in the fall?

As for kisses left in paper bags
and perched in hiding spots, well. . .
Kisses are tricks of nature
designed for those moments
when words become superfluous,
or so some famous poet said.

I know it's been a while, I know it's kind of late.
I know I'm unannounced, but I swear it couldn't wait.

I just needed to see your face and speak my piece
so I can have some peace of mind. . . so I can feel some release.

So many things go unspoken because they never have to be.
In a single sideways glance you can see inside of me. . .

. . . and pick at my strings, and things.
Things that aren't hidden, yet I'm sure open doors into my forbidden.

Let me reassure you, before you call this off,
I may be caught in my youth but my reason isn't lost.

I'm not looking for love, I'm not looking for lust.
Too many hoops, and too little trust.

I'm not keeping secrets, I'm not seeking answers.  
Just kicking to the beat of life's many dancers.

I don't need to contrive or make time for adventures.
I never sit still and I don't care for lectures.

I just need to taste freedom, feel a touch in the dark.
An escape from the hollow I have in my heart.  

When I see the soul in your eyes, much to my surprise, I feel alive.
Naked and thrown into the sunshine.

Bare to the world and bare to your gaze.
Finally lost in a comfortable daze. . .

. . . mystified under a fingertip waltz and a lingering haze
of dense swirling smoke; the exhalation of all my lost hope.

A comforting voice lets me in on tiny glimpses of his world and
I feel like I can breathe again.