retreats to play as a sweet song,
one sleepy whisper hovers in our air…
“Never let me go.”
With one silent embrace,
you know what could hurt me,
what soothes every dark realm.
You may as well have been touching
the first secret I ever kept,
where lips would softly meet,
the initial tremble will tell
a story all on its very own.
How lips were redolent
of summer mist and vanilla,
the palpable thickness
of a dark afternoon storm.
Tell me what other stories
you’re able to read through me.
Tell me if you can taste the first time
I was ever left cold and alone,
if you can feel the rivers that change
course in your beautiful wake.
Tell me that our clothes cage us
and we long to be free from stitching,
how your hands effortlessly entrance,
how your soft contours mold to pressure.
Even before you touched,
everything in me was reaching.
It’s as if proximity is more
visceral than actual contact,
you may as well have been holding me
after the first time I ever released.
You may as well have felt the love,
the irreversible loss akin to a shared grief,
when something like a soul fragment
was expelled without choice or question.
Your lips could meet mine,
the initial tremble tells
more than I know how to mention,
imparts intimacies that only bruised
souls know how to truly treasure.
The way lips met the smallest atoms,
the unseen molecules careening
between where I first fell in love
all the way to our joined infinity.
Tell me to impale you to the hilt,
your eyes the color of vast oceans,
every depth I wish to be claimed by,
enveloped and embraced beneath
before we burst from the inside out.
Afterwards, the smothering ferocity quiets,
retreats to sweetly hum a soft tune
we cling to the notes of…
“Never let me go.”
Our eyes meet with one silent kiss,
gaze like beams of light through a gem
splintered off into radiant prisms.
You may as well have been illuminating
stories I’ve never been able to tell,
the summer mist shooting through veins,
the lonely winter stars marking the skyline
when I had to leave everything behind,
the first kiss and last broken heart.
Tell me what stories are invoked,
whisper to me about how proximity
can burn with a deeper intensity
before I glide within your heat.
And the smallest atoms finally meet,
the unseen molecules careening
between the rivers that change
course in your beautiful wake.
Afterwards, the aching goes quiet,
retreats to speak like Morse code
gently thudding beneath your chest.
I may as well be listening
to your every secret,
invoking a sleepy sweet whisper…
“Never let me go.”
