You’ve turned me into an acrobat
with the number of times you make my stomach flip,
somersaults and cartwheels with every little flick of the tongue,
every well thought out brush of the skin.

You’ve discovered how to disassemble my body,
searching for the things that make me tick,
finding far too easily, what slows me down
and what winds me up.  

You’ve given me something I don’t have words for,
but it’s there, it’s in your eyes, in the way you look at me
when you think I don’t see; it’s in the way you smile at me
when we wake up in the morning

we’re both lagging but there, awake but not up,
aware that there’s a world waiting for us
but content in the world of each other’s arms.