peach sweater, tender center, converse, laughing smile making everyone nod to you, lean in for the next, chill slightly in your absense, gather steam toward your presense, long legs, deep intention, san francisco, long love, short love, decaf please, natty ice for the night, old phone, old friends, know the dance but not the words, hand next to face next to eyes closing in on my heart,
"will you be mine forever?" lips

yes, between us fantastic friction; delicious isnt it fine?
seems we were hungry all this while while they were feasting.
across a sweating room, a pull swings me out of his arms to yours.
because this song, this ones ours.

you could have asked. i might have obliged. one night when no one was looking but us,
some night when we were alone in a crowd writing each other without even knowing.
keeping count, taking score, remembering the errors rather than runs, relinquishing a tip rather than a kiss. a juncture it seems and we chose opposite forks at the same restaurant.

he bounces when he walks and the world hums to his rhythm. When I first saw him he was dancing in cashmere and I couldn't help to ask: how does one so tall dance so subtlety? his reply was sufficiently grand: its the sweater. Continuing on with the night, I tried to ignore the obvious that was staring at me across the smoke and mirrors. He was singularly sublime and I was waiting for the crash so we compromised when closing time wouldn't. Leaving the fabulous to play cranium until 5. Graceful movements between hands and shuffling feet: we have to dance to that song! Show me how to salsa to Stevie wonder. They watched we turned I lifted he sang the sun shone the night gave in limbs began their descent but my thoughts would not as they returned again and again to the slow samba that was our beginning. Forgive the metal detector around my heart but it has kept what you want someday safe.

timid head peers out
expecting a nose dive,
a silent treatment for no illness,
but instead warm next to me.
yellow sheets frame your face,
tenacious hair attempts rebellion.
eye lashes flutter awake and look
at me
and smile
grab
hold
tight
together
here we are where we always wanted to be
things past are out dated
things to come are a vibrating excitement
but now
now is the sweet,
the dance we practiced
the real of it.
lets make this work.
all that we are is together.

Sour scurrying in the ocean's discontent,
Drinking down prides poison,
between sheets of malleable memoria,
I can feel a distraught woman.
She seeks a kind of sleep that death won't provide.
Face leaking, hands tremble to no cold,
stiff in regret, toughened by yesterdays cold shoulder.
Gently she rises to turn off the ring that sounds off and on
in her forced solitude.
The eyes open and see the light through the dim door,
as he brings her a glass.
For you, he says, to wash it down.
For us, to fill again with that which will not be drained.
The light gets bigger and the cold is a cowardly begger asking for change,
but it is too late.
By the hand, we lift, naked and sure, out the dim,
to the stairs, shift reverse, neutral, drive me to you.
The sun is setting on yesterday, till tomorrow when
we can claim it for ourselves.