I had a dream about you. Again. In fact I’ve had so many dreams about you that I can almost feel your skin under my fingertips and your breath every time we kiss. This time when you pulled me closer, even though I couldn’t see you, I knew it was you. I’ve heard your footsteps, and recognized them instantly. I’d recognize them anywhere, among many others. The way I yearn for you, you are always expected. And now I expect you to do just that. Kiss me. This time I am asking for it, because I need to make sure I am awake.

I was mistaken
when I said you
live in my heart.
How absurd I was
when you live in my
fingertips so that everything
I touch is you. How foolish
I was when you live in my toes
so that everywhere I go there’s you.
How senseless of me to say
you live in my heart
when you breathe in my lungs,
walk on my mind, and
drink in my mouth. I came to
pen another poem for you,
but even every unwritten poem
is you.

You write poems with your fingertips
And I keep listening to the songs written on my skin
By some distant dream, similar words
But the verses never meet…