It is the absence of air - of space.
A twoness made out of oneness, that slowly becomes oneness again.

It is fire.
The light graze of HEAT along the edges of your suddenly tight knuckles. Every pore in your body falls in love in a vivid blur of life.
It's all-encompassing, like how the lazy sunset spreads and pools its searching golden fingers across every living thing, clinging to the earth.

It is a lazy ripple striating across the surface.
The stress leaving your body in waves as they rub your shoulder. It's an intense, firm awareness of every atom in your being, every breath and shift of your limbs a story waiting to be told.
It's a prison and a release when they hold your hand for the first time.

It's earthy comfort and flickering excitement. Heavy heat and grounding warmth. Lightning nerves turn to steady assurance.

Safety.
Vulnerability.
Contact.
Presence.

The tremble of her skin...
Like rain tapping off of
    a jigsaw puzzle formed in glass.

When I see you I'll hold you like never before,
Good luck peeling me off, I'll just squeeze you more.
Like a lid that won't budge, I'll embrace tighter still
Close my eyes, take you in, feel every feel.

Just like a fine wine, you've had time to breathe;
Let me bathe in your flavour, the taste of relief.
Daydream-filled moments, leading to now
What once was prosecco is now vintage Crystal.

Effervescence of contact, scared I may burst
Drinking you in, attempt to quench thirst.
Skin on skin warms me, senses alive
To love is to touch, to touch is to thrive.

So please do indulge me, play with my hair?
Enfold me entirely, leave no space for air.
My darling, I've missed you, do you understand?
What I really want, is to hold your hand.

not one soul
can t o u c h me the way you do.
no arms, no legs, no bodies.
just your b a b y b l u e s on me,
and i drown.

Wicked is your tongue

Saying forgive me

And I am sorry

Love is poisonous

From your mouth

I feel tainted and alone

Each touch that grazes my skin

I wonder if I could just leave

With you hand lingering in the air

Tangled in my shadow

Would you keep drowning

In your insincerity

Or would you finally realize

You will never have me

The finger upon whose weight
Depends the pluck of the string,
Does pull back the folds of a drape
Of sunwashed loneliness in afternoon.
Windows drift through you, without home,
Without glass, or any warmth from looking through.
Life in its squared sequence does amass, ecumenical,
Until death its finger does pass in its final pluck
As the touch of the thundering universe.

Fingertips linger upon skin
I trace my answers
As if my hands are mouths
Tongues lapping at the salt
The sunrise rests upon you
Layers of pink, orange and yellow
Glisten upon your face
And my gaze
Falls into your eyes
Your name
The horizon upon my tongue
And our love, I devour
Slowly eating with every touch