top of the tongue
as the finest drip comes slowly down along
sliding in a pure sugar way
that even honey wishes it could do
egg-shell white shining inside of a shadow
dime color grey reflecting a warm candle
in the sheer of the glass the liquid glow
near the wind blown trees a few raindrops fall
somebody turned on the heat or
perhaps i just felt you walk near
it gives goosebumps to you when i breathe
right on your neck slow and hot
across your fingers rolls an ice cube melting
the sounds you make are the only ones here
into a room where
on the occasion that we are this close
now i can pretend that you actually love me
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