Sometimes I want to write a poem about you -
About being you in all your glorious
Naked self: your skin
By candlelight lit. The typhoon rain
In the cup of your palms on the roof. Long
Hair styled by the strength of the wind. The bare
Back of your neck and the blades
Of your shoulders. The knotty spot to the left
And a little bit higher up. The faces you make,
Your parted lips unmoving in sleep. Angles
Of limbs folded, then unfolding in dream. Ah,
Bless the geometry of this dance in the starlit
Dark. Curtains open to reveal shapes only the absent
Moon remembers. Sometimes I am pleased,
All hot and sweaty from writing this poetry
On your body - about you, forever inspiring my pen
To linger there, while my tongue lingers here.
Sometimes my eyes, then yours, open.
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