You hold me in your arm in this makeshift heaven
and I’m counting your breaths. Trying to make it to three sounds easy until I’m cocooning myself against your voice, and I feel you hum into my throat, like a drum with the beat of two lovers lost in each other’s orbit.
There’s this softness in the way you lap up my laugh and the whole world shifts its focus to us. You give me the freedom to live between your Adam’s apple and your carotid, and I am nothing short of a bee on the Lilypad of your never-ending freckles caught in-between.
You make it look so easy, trying to tame the unbridled heart of a woman hellbent on crawling in your chest and making a home inside yours.