Hours

may the hours between us

reflect an unending of possibilities

that remain like scripture

forever ahead of us.

let the pages speak

the language of two people

who truly love each other.

let me fly to you

on paper wings,

hold me darling

the road is rising.

my soul recognizes it's counterpart

from centuries away.

my love,

i stumble blissfully

adding momentum

to our private dancing.

concentrate on me

and feeling me rising

to sultry six a.m. showers

and the sounds of sirens

rattling my steam soaked windows.

be with me,

while i run my fingers

over the ink and canyons

of your sanctified sonnets.

and i’m not crazy

you know,

just whole heartedly drinking

knelt before your suppleness

unashamed and unabating

in the place

where time matters not.