i wish you could see through my kaleidoscopic eyes;
my skies are forever echoing your light.
at first light, my tongue salivated for you.
you stirred something in me, like falling for a poem
at first verse. the heart is delicate in matters like this;
heart-strings fraying from carrying an immense weight.
i know how supple your verses are, that was given
but what spurred me was how gently words blossomed
on your tongue; you’d envelop the night with whispers
of warmth. sometimes i'm convinced you’re celestial,
the moons in your eyes seem to suggest so.
my tongue knows you by name, but the heart knows
you by poetry. by one a.m. the night starts to settle in
sleepy serenades. the moon is a burning ember we
extinguished hours ago so we swallow the stars instead
becoming starlit by our own premise. tidal silence;
in waves came conversations that we peered into
one another’s soul, other times we sat there simmering
peacefully in the sounds of nighttime in downtown.
i think of your hands – still,
wanting to lock my fingers between the
gap in yours. perhaps i look fondly upon
them since i know your mothers used hers
to be destructive, and you’ve only used
yours to be creative, nurturing, gentle,
and soft. you could do a better job at
kneading words into poetry.