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I am caramelized.
My body oozes down yours;
the Italian of your skin
melding with the cream-satin of mine.

I whisper, so the wind may carry
all that cannot be said.
When I dance,
I only dance for you.
All other eyes, for there will be others,
can wash over me.

You are the only bath I wish to take.

And when I finally make that fateful
decision, you will look at me in awe.
My patience for you wears
but thing is not the word.
Although you are not truly mine
the smell of you still lingers
in the recesses of my memory.

Do you smell me to?

Your dog cuddles in between us in bed.
She is small and shivers violently.
You draw her close to you,
quieting the shaking and the loving grunts.
Will you pull me to your body as you do her?
“I love you so much –insert my name-“
as you nuzzle my cheek affectionately.
Wow. Priceless.

I just compared myself to a dog.

That Sunday when I left you standing
in front of your house, your parents watched.
The too-short hug, the meeting of eyes,
my longing for your mouth to brush mine,
saying goodbye with one simple motion;
they saw and they watched my car
trail down the road away from you.

The witnessed more than they knew.

I have never written a love poem
and I know the word is powerful
but you told me you were falling.
My hand will trace down your back
and you will shudder as you always do;
come towards me instead of away,
conflicted by the past.

I am only you and you,
You are me.