the tips of my fingers press
unscripted lines into your cheek
as you glance off to the side,
and i move my hands to your eyes
to try and hold your gaze.
you are pensive:
i sense in the set of your jaw
that there’s something on your mind now and i want to worry,
want to sculpt mountains from the blankets swathing our knees–
but it doesn’t matter because now i’ve caught your face in my palms
and as you come closer to kiss me, all i can think is that
the music you’re drumming on my thigh is rather beautiful,
and wonder how long it would take to compose lyrics for it.
i should get on that eventually.
i will, i promise– but first,
just give me one more kiss.