In my dreams, I'm
under you
I feel your teeth on my skin
and your hand
on my throat
and I wake
with your name on my lips.

you *******.

how to be happy.

a deep river flows between us
light dances across your face
and hot wind stirs my hair
i'm standing on the bank
numbly wondering
how did this fire start?
and why
is there a torch
in my hand?
the bridge cracks, splinters
floats away.

I run my hands through
your jewel-bright hair
and close my eyes.

Time slows, condenses,
crystallizes,
and hangs suspended;
still and perfect.

I know
I won't forget this moment
This floating
peace

is in California
on the beach at 3am,
braced by the
freezing ocean wind
and "******* I'm here!"
It's in New York
in bar-top games of scrabble and
walking in the sun
hand in hand.
It's in future plans
and the horizon is
so much bigger
than it used to be.

is opening my front door
and seeing your face
in living, breathing color
finally, finally
I've missed you
get in here

is talking with you
for hours about everything and
laughing at the guy in the
grocery store who was
pushing guacamole like a drug
and inappropriate jokes and
quantum physics

is your hands in my hair
running through it so gently and
cupping my face
your fingertips on my skin
skimming lightly
making goosebumps rise
and fall and
rise again

is the taste of you
your/my hand balled up
a fist in my/your hair
a hand on the throat
nails down the back
bruised lips and
hitched breath
and just who is
holding who, here?

is looking in your eyes and swimming in an ocean of blue
drifting to sleep in your arms
or dancing with you in the car

is falling in love with you
and the surprise of
feeling that headlong
rush once more that
I thought was just a symptom of
first love; fleeting and never
to be felt again