Can I lick the stamp?

I’m staring at a postcard from Vienna.

It’s been so long since I’ve been anywhere.

I packaged some frantic kisses.

Should I send them?

I swam a little today, in my chair,

while I dreamed alternately

of my backyard and your lap.

You know, safe places.

Wish you were in front of me

so I could read your eyes

and taste your smile.

That’s all for now.

Yours, I am.

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Mooning

Each mention of the moon

makes my knees quake

and my eyes lose focus.

Ohhh yes, I let slip

under my breath…

please say it again.

A little tenderness

We scaled impossibly high places

and found ourselves burrowing,

greedy for things unseen.

 

He thanked me

for being an open wound.

summertime

i’m old

i’m tired

she said

but are you hungry

you look hungry

he said

 

was it a miracle

he knew

or did he guess

by her roving eye

was she just sad

was he bored

and did it matter

they wondered

the outside came in

in the bed, like a cocoon

like the first bed

 

a little bubble formed

and they dwelled inside

 

there were nibbles, sometimes bites

but it would not be broken

 

watching became habit

and they forgot to worry

 

love was breath

and then they awoke