We are in the
midst of a love Storm.
A cold front has passed by
leaving blazing hot
marital weather.
your fingers like
hot irons on my skin.
Somewhere in the house
the teeth of the piano
tap out love songs.
we open to each other
like windows
on a warm spring day.
Separating into two halves
like oyster shells
yet still hinged together.
Clothes slip onto the floor
from the foot of our bed.
closing my eyes
I hear soft summer rain,
a trilling of songbirds
on the open window sill.
Insects chirping an atia
in the blooming gardens.
All in homage
to our house
our home
when everything
is allowed.
and joy
sings the loudest.