Untitled

Say anything; I want to try on your life like a suit coat for the fit.
This works – bashfulness catching your tongue at my question
so that the air expects words that do not come,
leaving empty space to dangle like mistletoe, pregnant
with potential.  Keep your secrets, then – only don’t look away.
Your brown eyes are ripening grace and fever in me like sun on a vineyard.
Your intensity pitches a spreading fire in my chest, and I need no bolder story.

 

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