words

your gentle touch pulls me from sleep
like the soft tapping of rain on glass
or warm embrace of morning lightfall,
your breath a calm wind
at the nape of my neck
and your lips are then sails
that move me far from any earthen shore
and all its timid meaning.

you smell of honey
and i supplicate myself before you
to drink of your body,
cultivate your wildness
to taste sweet mystery,
wild enigma rolling off my tongue
and into my throat
to be cherished and consumed.

and there is so much smoke
we are like harbingers of disaster
and we cloud this place
with choked tendrils of graying sunlight
turning slowly in your bedroom,
holding particles of dust
like sedimentary cosmos
forming in the long ago
replicated here before our eyes,
watching the universe built again
from the weight of our slow suicides.

i share the world with you in your bed
and i marvel at the soft contours of your skin,
your pale thighs, your trembling stomach,
your raw beauty like a diamond
shines through even the darkest corner of my heart
and i feel as though perhaps
the world is justified by your creation
and the sharing of your presence.

-S.C. Martinez