masterful, we may not yet be
but I press my
fingertips, warm-smooth
to your skin, the curves and
the planes
anyways, because
i like the way you are.  i'm fond
of your stained-glass eyes, and
your blood-soaked cheeks.
i try this new thing, anyways
because i like it even
though i cannot quite get this
new thing, this foreign
dance routine
correct.

jigsaw souls interlock like
the way they meant,
each inhale and exhale
breathing evening in,
and each drumbeat of my pulse
sending my blood flying
faster under my skin.
lightning rod love, you're
a thunderclap
away
from a hurricane,
please tell me you
can feel
the ringing in my ears
the shaking of our earths; because
i can feel the electricity
in my nerve endings
sing, high and thin.

heat and wonder on your
breath, i just felt it
on my cheek;
when my limbs go weak i turn
my head and tell you
"i love you", another turn
of events, another
manifestation
and declaration
of the stirrings and rumblings
inside my chest.