The searing heat between us
is both somehow ephemeral
and reaching into something eternal
but may be a spirit that begins 
to pull away and elude us with age
when we always swear we need
to just feel something more. 

And it scares me to think this,
that we can never truly know anyone,
it all must come far too naturally,
I don't think we'd ever leave 
our hearts this naked on purpose.

It would be pointless
without the passion.

The words burned into me before I fell into you,
the best home that I will ever know,
microcosms of bones and flesh and sounds,
into the hues that flower across fluttering skin
and rest somewhere untouched by time.

And I wish I knew how to tell you
that my heart hasn't been in anything
for so long and I don't really know why,
but it's here with you always unchanged.

I wish you could be there, too. 

The thundering pulse between is ephemeral
but rippling into the other where we
always seem to find such comfort deep inside,
this is a spirit that has never eluded me
even if you're still searching for more.

And it scares me to know this,
to hold it like a note I can't read again,
it all must come far too naturally,
to be held by a jealous wrathful chain
until a heartbeat rages through stone,
I don't think we'd ever open 
and ache this much on purpose.

The words left their mark before I was in you,
the only place I've ever felt so at home,
microcosms where it all becomes almost too much,
my name still leaving your lips as we move,
weave past lilac scented skin and nails drawing blood
into hues that humans never see but always feel
resting somewhere untouched by our vows. 

And I wish I knew how to say that
my heart's always been here even if
I'd be so much safer without the passion,
but I'll always choose this beautiful surrender.
 
I hope you will be there, too.