Touch me. The thought begs:
Let me flee this solitude,
soul caught between my teeth. Let me
swallow it back, run trembling fingertips
on the seam of you. Let me be still.
Let the whisper in your throat
For a moment, let the wilderness
of my being recede. Footsteps bare
on the forest floor, let me walk through
nightmare. Let me wake
in the circle of your heart. Let me be still.
Let the shape of hours find us
and pass by.