A look can say a thousand words,
and your eyes are always talking so much.
A kiss can spell a lifetime,
and oh how I long for our lips to meet, to touch.
Introductions won’t be awkward, not at all,
and I think they will force time to fall in line
and pass more carefree than ever before.
You look at me,
and I see the sea, its distant shores
beckoning me and calling me home.
I see promises so-long and so-far kept,
and promises that have yet to be made
but when they are, I know they will be met,
and met well, serendipitous as the way we met.
A hand held is a hand well kept,
and I desire the warmth of your skin against mine
like the feel of a sun set and its light lying on my skin.
I know our season is coming soon,
and I will have you; you will hold me,
but time doesn't pass carelessly;
and they tell me only time will tell,
but all along I hear what time’s been telling me
in soft, rushed whispers (it’s whispering your name)
and comforting words: nothing lasts forever.
I’d rather a look from you than a thousand words
from Father Time and a kiss from you than
a billion sunsets by the seashore,
and I can see it now:
The moon is wane and gold,
the night is dark and cold,
and your hand is mine to hold:
you’re mine and I’m yours yet we’re neither
here nor there as the wind rushes past
the window, harsh and strong, but inside,
we feel neither, gathered round a fire
listening to owls conspire with hoots
and icicles forming on the roof
as the fire crackles in front of us,
and I feel your body like a furnace itself
under the blanket, with nothing under it
but skin and hands and feet and love
to share and time to spare to keep us warm
and rested and at ease and stories
to tell with our eyes and lips
and fingertips.
It’s so clear, like the moon in that dream sky.
And your eyes say you can see it too.
I’d follow you, never asking why,
wherever you go to see you,
because the moon moves
but never loses its place
in the sky;
You will never lose your place
in my heart.
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