Held aloft by your desire to stay
And heralding my love of the way
You listen.
In the room I'm drawing out for you,
Where the space melts and the loud subdues
Into melancholic subtle hues,
We wait.
Jazzing and boozing all lovely and young,
Hanging on lightly to the sound of your gun
While my padding footsteps keep us awake
And the storm in your nerves has no faltering wake.
Pardon my trafficking graffitied trash
as I watch your cigarette morph into ash
Noting nothing and everything tucked in your stash
And say it.
In between a sheet and a memory, I'll let myself wrap lightly into your skin to fall for you like I've never fallen for anyone before. And the nights I spent then craving more are blown away to empty windows when I make connection with your flesh and our fingertips admit to each other (maybe even before our mouths can quite agree) that freshly laundered sheets feel better when you are holding me in your June dream.
Patiently, I hold the door for you
And wait until you wander through
To do what we have come to do
Admit it.
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