so carefully written along your body,
transcribing them can be the key to us
reading one another without symbols and words
When you reach out for me in the vast dark,
no longer clinging to the memory of a phantom warmth.
Please don’t go if I pull away at first,
withdrawing from such quiet beauty has become a reflex,
I’ve been cautious prey inhaling pheromones so primal and sweet,
halted with a fear that the last sensation I may know
Will be the grin of a predator,
the silent slash of it’s claws across my throat.
It will take time to put trust in the inked translations,
to stow the codes away where you reside in my heart,
where our bodies and essences speak without words
When you reach out for me in the vast dark,
hands and lips traveling the spaces between escaping sighs
and the exhale against my form becomes a sweet summer wind,
expelling the icy phantom from me.
Please don’t leave if I’m motionless in the calming pulses,
if silence wraps around me after we have made love,
I’ve alway been convinced that such devotion is akin to myths,
stories we shape to soften the lonely blades of a union’s collapse
And reading the final chapter is as dangerous as giving you
the keys to the glyphs and runes written along me.
It will take time to truly let you reside in my heart,
once you are there I promise to reach for you in the vast dark,
where all we are has learned to speak without words.
