just a dream

in the echo of laughter

we bide our time

it’s getting late

and I still don’t want to leave

i want you to linger

like the butterflies,

birds, and bees

i fit into you

and you

into me

as we dance

our own heartbeat

of gentle whispers

that betray moans

as you nibble my eves

we shake the rafters

til they wake

and we were

just a dream

Tracks

I see it in that brief moment that crosses your face;

your stare into my eyes

As you take my hand,

make me feel safe.

You never say it.

 

The train will run out of tracks

we will part ways

like lovers that never were.

Because I’ll have fallen in love

with you-

 

In that brief moment

when you take my hand,

stare into my eyes,

and that look passes across your face;

you’ve fallen in love with me.

 

My  eyes as big as the ocean:

Can you see all the parts of me?

Or is it just a reflection

Of all you hope I’ll be;

what’s convenient for you?

 

The stare in your eyes

as you drop my hands

when you see the look across my face

in that moment that passes.

When falling in love was never safe.

 

The pieces of me

create a beautiful birthmark.

My hands work with my heart

to build a beautiful landscape

that’s deserving to be loved.

 

I hold in my hands

the look across your face

when you stare into these eyes

and consider for a moment

how wonderful loving all this could be.

 

My train is leaving now.

We gather what’s left

and you take off walking

careful to not leave tracks

so love will never travel.

 

Take my hands,

stare into my eyes,

and consider for a brief moment

that loving could be safe

because we’ve earned it.

 

 

 

 

 

How you make love.

I search for fevered lust

when I’m missing you

and make love like angels

when I’m all alone.

Last night

you came to bed again

and kissed me behind a thousand tears.

Our love was like water

you were the ebb

I was the tide

we came like the ocean;

that’s how we make love.

It made me realize

I’ve had monkeys in my bed

hanging from the rafters

howling beneath the moon

fucking between the sheets

a habit of addicts;

is how they make love.

I dream that I’ll fall in love again

it will feel like chocolate

or dancing in a cool spring breeze

and butterfly kisses;

how love should feel.

With eyes wide shut

you grab my waist

like it belongs to your embrace

and you kiss my lips

like they belong to your lips.

We make love like music

fumbling through the melody.

There’s no refrain to contain us

so our breath echos in the silence

and our moans make cadence.

There’s no need for climax

because this isn’t ending.

This is how you will make love.

self portrait