give me back
those two o clock's in the morning.
your warm mouth
the scent of whiskey in your lungs—
you speak,
everything is on fire,
and i have been wanting to burn with you.

you move under me
collecting stardust,
musing the inner stellar
planets
with your hot metal eyes
and they are looking at me
with all of their white hot
glow.

you see me,
quaking with a mouthful of stars,
kissing your hips
wishing we were somewhere more
explosive.

i never wanted to feel anyone
the way i feel you.