Darling,
I promised you kingdoms,
how ‘bout you and I cut these depressing tethers,
and make the later sooner?
I love the run of it,
that edgeward lilt to the gait.
The flicker of two bodies in the dark,
all touch and sound.
my fingers tracing some 1920s silhouette,
that drop-gut plunge of lips to mine to neck to mine,
that knee jerk way my teeth tighten on something
I
want
so
badly.
I love the feel of it.
that dead-day in mid July when the heat is amber,
and skin sticks to everything.
my skin to you and perfection too.
breathless as when I saw you first,
punk-rock cadence to your talk,
kick-{your}-ass radiance to your walk.
that knee jerk way my teeth tighten on something
I want so badly.
that soundless way I talk to someone
I love so madly–
I want so badly.
