Sweetness

Just between the sheets and silences
you tend to old wounds,
as you tend to lover.
You’re beautiful in your garden
beautiful always and forever
like magic that’s more smoke
than mirror,
and sex more passion
than love.
And I want to sink like bottles tipping
lower, my love
press down harder
You’ve spiked my brain,
pinot noir 
and compromised my breathing.
I need to race with your horses
as the ground rumbles
beneath your sheets
devour the pain of permission
and come silent, 
sweet girl.