i hope my words are strange and wondrous,

like kisses that quiet all things superfluous,

so that we can all stop and

listen

to not have to say

to not want to say

to not need to say

that is what it means

to have you love me.

a temporary pocket of stillness,

a quiet

some sort of rest.

captured between your fingertips

and a cool touch

behind my ears.

like the first drops of

a morning rain wiping old tear-tracts

clean.

and the warmth between my sheets

is no longer as alluring

as the comfort that

radiates from somewhere

between your

shoulders.

you

are what it means.