dragonfly eyes watch me
in my bed, a constellation quilt
spread over my lap.
the warm ripples of thunder
bring to my mind a memory of
arms around me, the
vibrations of a low, soft clearing
of the throat against my cheek.
I listen to the steady strokes of
raindrops against my window,
and I think of the one who has stayed
to listen to the storm near the place that I am.
my closed eyes see such love,
electric nameless colors deepening
and taking root behind my eyelid doors.
I have chosen not to break
and instead found a lover written
across the pages of my notebook.
on my lips, caramel and vanilla and salt and rain,
under my fingers, soft desert dust,
in my ears, a little-boy smile.
I fall, but not asleep.