you tiptoe through the darkness
towards me, kissing my palm,
my forearm, my shoulder
my neck, my lips.
we lay here, yes, here,
and you caress me until,
like butter, or a sno-cone,
i have melted in your hands.
my bed is a sanctuary
and we've come to pray.
two strangers, comfortable,
knowing everything, and nothing.
i can't stop smiling, you can't
stop calling me out on it.
you whisper, 'you better not
fall in love with me or something.'