# 372

[downcomesthesky]

Last night

with my skin stretched across yours

I dreamt of a poem

to tell of the way

that your breath

can pause mine

your movements

can shape mine

your teeth

can taste mine.

A poem to say

how it is

that I still hear

your feet

moan on my floorboards

or that echo

when your knuckles pop

like an airplane

and that sound

of your smile

spreading across your face.

A poem to explain

that your thoughts

will always follow mine

and no matter my state of mind

I can always see your words

and feel you

all the same.

This poem

that floated through

my subconscious

is to tell of

how I could never stop waiting

for your joints

to lay with mine

or your fingers

to remain in the spaces

between mine

as they belong.

But, this poet is tired

of watching your intentions

smear between the lines

of what is wanted

and required.

Watching your eyes

once fixated on mine

hide behind graceful lashes

and,

I am so tired

of missing the way

that your bones collided with mine

in a brilliant dance

to pass our time.