your hand felt
like water
within
mine,
and i watched
as drop by
drop
your reflection
puddled on the ground
and dove
in.
romance
slipped my hand
from glove
to find yours open,
waiting..
to tender mercy’s
touch,
to melt the frost
around my
heart.
it was slow flicker
to flame
that kept our home
warm
when windows
shattered
and snow
feathered in.
gently grasp my
hand
and drag me
back
to where our sweet
spills freely,
in light of deep
trust–
where we talk through
thoughts that
plague
us.
like top shelf chocolate
dripping on the
tongue,
i’ve tasted
dark
and wanted
more
to coat my mouth in
velvet warmth,
to quell all future
cravings.
her head filled the
pillow with
dream
and her body remembered
the running
her lips,
the moisture–
soothed by the scent of
an ethereal
lover
while resting
covered.
it was the song
in your
look
that floated me
places
i had only read
in books
of scribes better
versed
than
i
on
the art
of connection.
holding space
for warmer thoughts
on night bereft
of spark
keeps the soul from
shivering,
two hands around
one heart.
wiped a snowflake
from your
cheek,
assuming it
was wept,
but a stain of
white was
left
upon skin where
winter
bled.
trickling of a
raindrop
down the courtyard
wall
leaves a trail
so slick
it reminds us we
still linger
here,
our forms still
pressed to
brick.
hands in the garden 
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