Slow dance

This poem is about you and how You leave licks of naked flames On my skin, with imperfect Fingers lingering, drawing Ancient symbols I’ll never decrypt, Marking me.   It’s about how your eyes burn Right through my soul, forcing out Unfamiliar sentiments that float Above our shoulders, and I dare not Hang them on…

4 am

It’s  4 am As it was, almost a week ago. I’m thinking it must mean something, The fact that I can’t sleep now And  I’m writing you this Because it’s never too early.   I love you at 4 am Not now, but I did a week ago When we had just got back. I…