HOME | DD

Description
I don't need the sun:
I have the radiance of your smile
and the heat of your callused fingers
infused into my pores,
I get all the nutrients I need
just by brushing against your mouth,
inhaling the all-too familiar
cologne draped across your chest—
I've always burned too easily,
but you're standing in the shade.

I don't need the moon:
I have seen you shining
when darkness has pervaded every corner and
drawn its clammy talons across your wrists,
your heart glows, illuminating the towering
city sky-line,
roads light up and snow winks in even coats—
I didn't think this city could be beautiful,
but it's reflected in your eyes.

I don't need perfection:
I have the outline of your torso in a
pre-dawn filter, a mass of embers singeing my sheets,
keeping the cold confined to soft moans through
drafty windows,
the melody of your voice, deep and rich,
drenching my parched throat,
the raw, pleading look from beneath half-lowered lids
asking to pick apart the scars, find worth in bloody hands—
I'm not asking for the world,
there is only you
cartwheeling across an empty sky.