These blankets hold your scent,
Heavy, warm and thick like
The longing that smothers my every crevice
When I look at you.
Your gaze, magnetic in its touch upon my
Tired eyes, drifts from my palms like
Hungry fistfuls of water grabbed too-eager
From the bathtub, when we were young.
Joy is that song that
Sweetens the rain-soaked breeze,
Cools our tired edges, molds us
Perfectly in word, in sound, and in breath.
You cocoon me by nightfall,
In restless, drugged dreams that leave
Prints along my skin, or with
Strong arms that wrap me into
The quietness within.
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