Eyes closed.
You have consent
to my body,
my thoughts,
and there is where
I lay comfortably
in the ephemeral
energy of your arms.
We can’t be here long.
I hold on
as if this were a dream,
malleable
but limited.
So I wrap myself around
you,
look inside your eyes,
and try to find a way
to never lose this.
But alas, I know
in time it will dissipate.
So let’s make the most
of tenderness.
I embrace you.
Our lips turn kindred,
twisting and bending
into a language
neither of us translates.
Our arms entwine,
under and over one another,
as legs wrap,
pulling each other
into a deep sigh,
a deep rhythm
we remember
from a time
we seem to forget.
As my body rises,
your body holds.
With hands I know —
hands that say,
gentle,
that say,
promise I won’t let go.
Strong.
The stretch of vines
and leaves begins to wrap
around our naked bodies,
crawling with small buds
starting to bloom.
You pull me
closer to you,
whispering something small
beneath me.
I move you above me,
our bodies circling
toward something
neither of us names.
We hold each other closer
as the room greens,
as each body remembers
In its own way
—then together—-
how to bloom.
Everything in us
becomes lush,
flourishes,
is gold.
A rose blooms
on your back
where I lovingly dug into you.
Eyes open.
