Liberation

Where does your exhale end
and my gasp for air begin?
Dawn's about to burst open,
and I'm uncertain who is me.
Our love in water color,
we bleed together until I'm lost,
until this picture is confusing.
I feel safe in this space,
because how could you leave it?

Imprints

When it's cold
I like to press the warmth
from my fingertips on to
the windows, I like to watch
as they fade slowly from view.
It is like I was never there.
This morning you turned to me,
and I pressed my warmth on
your lightly closed lips,
and I watched my fingertips fade.

Your Truths

I woke up
tracing the lines on you,
your face, without the knowledge of
how they got there.
You are new
to me, and I to you,
but we're old, a body of experiences.
How many suns exactly
have I let graze this skin?
And what's the damage?
How many moons have you
looked up to, how many times
have you wondered?
What were your answers?
Your face is so new
to me.

Your Eyes

I like your eyes,
how they shimmer when you laugh,
like they're laughing.
I like your eyes,
how they gloss with wine,
how they give you away.
I like your eyes,
how they meet mine assertively,
like hunter and a doe.
I like your eyes,
how soft they are with hopefulness,
how they never seem expecting,
how wide they are with fearlessness,
how they're taking but they're giving.
I like your eyes.

I Want You Slow

I want it slow.
I want you slow,
slow and natural.
I want you to do all those things
that are you in the actual.
I want afternoon sun through half open shades,
I want it slow and never to fade.
I want it like that breeze in the night,
grazing my cheek and holding me tight.
I want this motion to be long and slow,
not just for me but so that the world could know
it's natural.