Clothed in nakedness
and courage
I lay you my heart
on stone cold tiles
just like the fingers
that trace my spine.

You tug at it
my satin sleeve
and delicate heartstrings.
You unravel me
as we tangle in tango.
This gift
I give to you.

Opened and crumpled paper wrappings
left in the corner
just like the pastel skirt
worn for you.
Torn and used
what more
have you to do?

Months past eight
there is none but you.
Even through the tears
still,
you are my rain
you are my shelter.