Darling I don’t think it’s the taste of your lips
and your lips alone, that make me feel like I’m
floating. In pure air, liquid gold, ecstasy. I think
that is what they call it. Nor is it the way your arms fall precisely
into the rise and fall of my waist, that sends a thousands shivers
down my spin and sets my brain on fire. So that thoughts don’t
seem to exist anymore. Electric. Shock. It’s definitely not
the feel of your warm body pressed close to mine, so I can note
the rhythm of your breathing, the thumping of your chamber
of a heart, that makes me want to trap time in a vacuum
so it forever stagnates.
What I love dear, is that you fill a space in my head
I ran from for years. Silence it, calm it,
quench it. So that for some time I am not myself but
you and I.