inside me
I want you inside me.
I want your face to settle behind my eyes
so even when I drift into fever-hot sleep,
I feel your arm tucked neatly
over my shoulder.
You remain here,
shuttered from howling summer winds,
in my brain, in the moments
between hazy meetings, past-due bills.
In this place, we’re still in love.
Together, we lay on our favorite hill,
awash in light dancing its way
between red-winged blackbirds,
suspended in mid-flight
and new, unfurling oak leaves.
Here, we find a piece of warmth, keeping it for ourselves,
and whenever I wish you would kiss me, you do
an answer without a question.
Then, we fall and become one with the grass,
forever green and growing.
Your eyes like to follow the scattered shards of sky
which peek between those oak leaves,
and in that moment we know
the trees are more alive than we are.















