Taking myself through these paces,
Boom-Go, and we're off to the races,
Caught up in liminal spaces,
Will we or won't we
When or when not
Your touch at that spot...

Boom-Goes all of my exterior defenses,
Put a power wash on all my senses,
Raw and alive
Back again in five
No way satisfied...

Boom-An--huh~
The flush to my face
the moment has taste--
**** through
My teeth--I need air,
I swallow at your stare~
Maybe I don't need air.

If I will it,
Will it?
Mold it into the shape of kisses,
Send it on the Winter wind,
Will whatever it wishes.

Stop in time,
The snowflaked memories of my mind,
Zoom in past the reflection of the sign
That we passed and then doubled back.

Wind up Wind down,
Rise up, Slow up,
Follow the tug,
Follow the pocket square,
Dressed to the nines,
Am proud to be with ya.

Zoom back out,
Push through unshoveled snow
Push through the front door
Push into my arms
Pushed against the wall.

Stop in time,
This moment is perfect,
Nothing could change it,
No way to frame it,
Remember it hard,
Recall every detail:
His smile, his beard, his coattails,
The bits of snow left on his coat still--
because the moment he saw me we were On.

The feel of his coat against my skin,
Breathing in the smell of him,
Then we tasted
Each other so close under the covers
We made it
About each other and for one another
Our bond reached out and shook us
And there was nothing to say when it took us
We both knew
You knew what I knew
We both knew.

Now when I send tiptoe kisses
You feel them.
When you send me your embrace
I feel that too.
I can hear you in my heart and it sings back
Whistles back a callback or two.

We only have time.
We have memories to align
With our presence,
Stamp our mark.

The energy of us
Leaves an imprint
Like ghost tiptoe kisses
And ghost long embraces
Ghost hearing your voice
and the timbre and warmth
Just as present.

I couldn't be happier
Except
If I could will it,
I would will it--
So that we don't have to sustain on
Ghost tiptoe kisses
and ghost long embraces
Anymore.

While the withered page sets down its weary head,
and the children have all been tucked in bed,
The heart of the writer sings fair & true,
Its melody sweet & pure & new.

It's as if it started snowing rainbows
Down fifth avenue,
Or flooding yarn *****
with cats just out of view.

Zoom out of the scene with the kid at the zoo,
Who's seen a lion for the first time and a flamingo too,
To the lovers just a synapse away from saying
Those words people always imagine lovers saying...
But is that the beginning of the story, or the end?

Finding the beginning of the chapter is easy,
Who knows when they end?
Are we the authors?
The painters to fill in history with color?

Raise a glass to our hotel sushi picnic,
Ugly gingham curtains and squeaky old chairs,
To the look in your eye when I first held your stare.
I held my breath, you know.
Maybe you didn't.
You do now.

Even if it was snowing rainbows,
Even if it was raining from the sidewalk,
Even if it was blowing ***** of yarn down the road,
I couldn't take my eyes off of you.

Let's defy time
and space
and physics
and just be together.

It has been raining
For so long that
I have grown accustomed
To the sound of
Sloshing puddles
Being tossed around
By the traffic outside
My window.

Inside my bedroom,
Laying in the pitch black
With nothing but a
bright, white screen
In front of me,
Squinting as I listen
To the motors and
The sloshing puddles
Trying not to think
Of you.

Even breathing
Next to me,
The sky lightening and
Illuminating the tapestry
Over my window that
Mildly mutes the sound
Of the sloshing and
The motors as I lay
Trying not to think
Of you.

Facing the edge,
A corner of the covers
Covering me,
I feel exposed
And not because
I'm naked and the blanket
Doesn't cover.

The shadow breathes
Sighing next to me and
Rolls over taking more
Of the warmth with it.
And I'm cold.
Not because of the covers
Or because I'm naked.

I need you.

The motor sounds and
Sloshing puddles are outside
My window and if I focus hard
Enough I won't cry as I try
Not to think
About you.

It starts as a drop.
One single drop.
It spreads over the heated
Surface multiplying into many.

Before you can control it
Before you have a chance to
Stop the reaction
It goes without your permission,
The catalyst sparked.

The heat fuels it,
The oil flavors it,
The salt encourages,
And it bubbles.

Turn down the heat?
Not yet.
Let it simmer,
Be patient,
So it builds.

Just let it be,
Watching it won't help
The focus,
Until it boils.

Snap and release,
Relax and let ease
Into the boil,
Into the heat.

Plump and soften,
Ripe to eat.

You're 5 foot 6 inches,
you know, not the 5 foot
8 inches that you claim
on the face of your
Texas driver's license--

Your hair was long
and curly then, and so sunny
beach blonde that you
could have walked right
out of the ocean and--

Right, thinking about
your driver's license at 6am
not having been to sleep
isn't what I should be thinking about.

But it is.

Your quiet disposition,
offering a distinct proposition,
Your eyebrow delivering
due suspicion as it
raises in question.

That look
so hard to deny,
as I sway my hips
sauntering towards you
methodically, calculated
like a pendulum on a
grandfather clock.

As I reach the edge
of the bed where you lay,
knees following behind my
hands as I crawl towards you
on the smooth,
navy blue sheets.

It's not an electricity
but a hot pulse
that I feel, as I lay
my head gently on
your chest, as you stare
at me:

Like a predator
stalking his next meal
casually, as he allows the
prey to come to him.

Then you stroke my
hair with such tenderness,
pulling my body into
yours with such care

Knowing that you would
be more than content
just to be able to hold me.