Kitchen appliances hum softly,
logs shift in the stove, an uneasy chorus.
The shower sings too, softly, faintly.
I wish you and I were tangled together
in this inky night.
All of the others would cease to exist,
even the body dancing under the cascade of water,
the body which may or may not have been invited in.
The fire flares up, burns with an indescribable vibrancy.
I can almost see your face close to mine,
lit up by the flickering of the flames,
a shadowdance with all the intricate details of you.
Liplocked, bedlocked, lovelocked.
I have never wanted anything so much
as I want this profound happiness with you.
Even here, alone in this dingy room, I feel it,
the shapes it creates in the staleness of the air,
the near-tangible texture that it holds.
