Taking Her to the Moon

Taking Her to the Moon  
 
 
Carry you down into that liquid place again
where we meet without talking, even though
sometimes we're talking, where we laugh
without making a sound, the punch lines
floating off the smooth corners
of your mouth tilting up like commas
around some beautiful phrase we don't
have to try to remember. Wedging my knee
between your thighs and slipping my fingers
into a wet cave, coating them with your glazed
with human light and lifting them to our lips,  
let them tell you what they found.
I'll kneel before the sunset of your skin,  
its pale tone beginning to blush, evenly,
every cell inspired to read, pushing toward
that ruddiness of purpose, that sigh.
My hands will wrap around the tendons
of your wrists to hold you here, hovering  
over you like clouds before a storm,
the roar thunder and then the rain.  
 
By nutbuster