2.29.08

the tables have turned;
or have they?

i do not want this feeling now,
but it is too late for that.
phosphorescent warmth floods my hips,
eyes,
my hand as it entwines sweatily with yours.
i am bathed in raw emotion.

how do you know you will still love me
tomorrow?

touching the tiny mole on the right side of your neck,
i feel still afraid
yet bound in space and time by wonder,
the impermeable grasp of your desire.

my heart beats too quickly,
the days                  flutter
in front of me like stars.

2.29.08