Tonight I am harvesting the midnight sky, the warming September breeze, howl of the moon and you.
I do not recognise you
I do not know who you are
but you have visited me in my dreams every night this last week.
Let the entire history of our adoration
be the way our limbs become tangled in one another
when the moon melts over us in a sliver
or full bellied.
I do not really care, as long as I can drink you up.
I would like to slip under your skin
to soak myself in your sweet delight
I wish for the air you breathe into my lungs to taste like what cedarwood and patchouli smells like
at two in the morning when the world is asleep
and our world is the only one burning so brightly it can be seen two point seven billion miles from earth.
I wish for the only pain in this world to be the way winter’s chill can strip you of life, until spring cradles you in her arms and the cherry blossoms sing.
I wish to be so deep in you, that oceans tremble.
I wish to dance with you, in liminal spaces.
I wish for you to feel my softness, and the weight of my truth.
I wish to lay here with you, on these icy wooden floor boards when my mattress is an arms distance from where our bodies have collapsed into one another. For my sole intent is not to make love to you here tonight, not to drip in one another into the night, but to hold your gaze. To marvel at the way you illuminate from underneath me and trace your jawline with the tips of my fingers.
My eyes will not leave yours, until I crumble.
Then my lips will not leave yours.
I wish to map out where the sun wakes from your collarbones and storms brew along the horizon your spine.
The valleys and the deserts you are composed of.
The canyons formed upon your chest.
To breathe in your borders.
You are an infinite adventure. A path I wish to run along at dusk and crawl along at dawn.
I wish to find you in the sound of rain on a tin roof
in sea foam kissing the shore
rain on warm pavement
and the honey warmth of sunrise.
This will be our becoming.
Kiss me there
in the middle of my senten