How do you smell, how softly elastic
is your skin, how will your mouth kiss
my heart on your tongue?

Is there any solid ground
on which I am safe
other than under your feet?

Shall I write to you
about your eyes, that
they have cast me down

and I don't want to
but have no other choice
but to wait for you

your gaze on me
a word to me
the tips of your fingers

of which I dream
and cannot sleep
for fear and longing

even in love
with this stammering
of my happiness