lover, what i wouldn't give
to whisper "te quiero, te quiero, te quiero",
until my lips tire of the exertion and i say it with
my fingers parting your glistening salt-bleached hair
and my arms unearthing the architecture of your
broad-shouldered back—making landmarks
of the isthmi and gently sloping dunes like
a pilgrim in some pristine promised land,
affirming all he knows to be his

my sweet sweet summer child, my beautiful boy,
i might've laughed when you told me you thirst for
the lingering burn of houston sun on your face
but i understand all too well now, cariño;

because you set alight a thousand little fires
within my heart of hearts, immolate me
when you let me hike your shirt and
lay my stone-cold hands on your body,
and it is as if i am beholding some blue-hot star

i abstain from you, and i sip you in moderation
because i fear i will come to live for what you ignite in me
the knowing that we're here and we're here and we're here.
for in you, i have found port and asylum, safe harbor
where i can drop anchor, moor my wayfaring ship

lover, my quietly brooding daydreamer,
you need not feign nonchalance around me:
your laughter is spring rain and i wish to bathe in it,
your stoic shoulder some perennial rock to rest my stubbled chin,
and i am but some wide-eyed child, stunned into wonderment
by the blessing that is you,

lover, to call you sweet would be to dishonor you:
the words you hand-pick for me are savory as dew-glazed herbs, and i relish the taste of them from your mouth;
together, might we burn sage? make a home together?
fill hearth and hearts?

i see my god in you, and in earnest, i pray:
that i have found continuity, something real and
alive and domestic as it is spontaneous, because
this is a love i will feed daily as if it were my child

my old soul knows yours by tens of names
pero ninguno tan hermoso como iván.