His Adoration

Smiling at his own thoughts
the words formed, ready
to be said like taste of silver
painted on his tongue

he touches the moon
in his mind eyes, fingers
on glossy cool surface
of the tangled words

he unravels them, patiently
he wills them to be bouquets
that can be presented
to her proudly

she sleeps unaware
peaceful in her own dreams
he sighs willing to be there
dancing in her shadow

the bloom opens in his heart
a joyful ache of belonging
there will be thorns
but his heart beats there.