when you are old
I hope you
                     remember those
holy
moments
       on my window-bed
between
our hip-bones
     and
eyes,
          minds, torsos twisting
             skin never close enough to the other’s
laughter.
                               and cascading
                                      hair-curtains
            ­                                      lips
                                                  breathing
                                                           other’s
                                                                ­breath
                                                                ­      sweet and
                                   longing
                                                     words words
                                                        no words
                                                       one word:

                                                      now – here.