Quietly sleeping, maybe dreaming,
I hear your heartbeat over mine.
I like it better.

Not long ago we spent nights awake,
holding hands, staring past the ceiling
fumbling for words like kids
arranging lettered magnets on a refrigerator door.
So afraid of the feelings
buzzing in our chests like frenzied honeybees
and the sweet, simple words they made
in the combs of our hearts.

The sweet, simple words on the tips of our tongues.
Oh, I could taste them each time you kissed me.

Now we lie here,
quietly sleeping, maybe dreaming
or holding hands, staring past the ceiling
resting on the flowerbed our love made.