We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
You look me in the eyes
when you ask me if I love you
and I’ve never seen your orange eyes
this shade of red,
and there’s a weight dragging my gaze
out to sea
when I say yes.
I don’t think I know what you mean to me anymore.
You slam yourself so hard into me
intertia rolls through my toes.