A poem that I started working on awhile ago. Now finished.
I survive on moonlit smoke
and softly spoken words of how his
skin feels on mine.
“You are my light”
His whispers are warm and sincere,
like morning coffee or the sun
shining on my face through my
bedroom window as I watch
mockingbirds blown about by sunset winds.
I prayed in tongues to the night
for the forest to bring me a boy with
eyes like the sky over the Bering sea.
Fingertips like stardust that would fill
the craters left by falling comets.
His mouth spoke galaxy’s into
existence inside of me.