Lungs

We have said everything that there could be
to say to one another in the dark
There are no words left to whisper
no promises kept silent on lips
Yet the promise of movement
the future whisper of skin and skin
together lingers.

Fingers tracing skin in wonder
new and shaking
Barely held back delight aloft
and kissed along the ribs
The ones behind which hammer
a frantically excited heart
rushing to hold still and quiet form.

There are many words left to say
in languages of hands and mouth
to burn along my neck and yours
to band around my wrists and
softly shut my eyes from branding light
To anything but the sound of shaking breath
nervously sighing in loaded lungs.