First -
your eyes,
the brightest stars -
beacons
even in day light
drawing me into you
as the moon caresses the ocean
with its irresistible pull.
Each succeeding day I become a diver
for the treasure
that is you
and finding more of myself.
Then -
beyond attraction,
beyond desire -
rather, the life-breath
held fast between us.
Now-
my every thought, a collage
of secret glances and kisses,
dreams and plans
as my heart beats faster
anticipating our next and
every touch.
Shooting star, you pierce my heart
burn and burn -
until, hot memory ash.
Perhaps, I surmise, my heart gets too old
or too scarred for such wonderful atrocities.
Then, another star hurtles my way.
I could side-step this one
but as with all the others
I won’t.
We are slow to learn
and even slower to care.
Desire must be the most powerful thing
on this planet.
I should give up star-gazing.
Ha!
Might as well try to give up breathing.
I am the star-gazer.
Living off of emotion is a terrible thing.
She’s a dragon on my back,
my many mistresses,
her claws dug in for battle.
She’s in it for the long haul.
Her gentle, hot breath kisses my neck
reminding me of her hunger.
Sometimes she sleeps (fasts?)
but consequently, wakes ravenous.
The night is vast and deep
with many shining attractions.
I grab a convenient, soft hand
setting new fire to my little universe.
Rebuilding is the bitch.
