tell me why
i feel more holy in your palms
than praying to any of the gods?
tell me why
i’ve never felt smaller when i
rest my head on your shoulder?
it doesn’t take much,
it’s always the little things that set
me ablaze. why do my desires run
rampant when i catch the morning
light in your eyes –
tell me why
do i desire?
and if not your eyes –
it’s everything else,
the way the wind plays
with your hair,
the way the sun tenderly
kisses your skin.
