Sunday, January 22, 2012


in a dream i reach out to touch you
and the texture of your skin is
the surface of a lake

the mid-morning sun that streams
through my window does not feel
as good as your body with mine

stumbling outside with coffee
i take a cigarette between my fingers and
i watch the smoke move all around me

we put our hands into oceans
and rub the salt water into our skin

sitting on the steps
i feel the shapes of my memories change
like shadows and moving light

your hands
are the only thing that keep my body
from incorporeality

i never remember anything else
but the sensation of skin with skin and
the scent of you