cycle

what maturation means:
less excitement, less desire,
less ability to stop my own heart.
fewer emotions that last for weeks,
almost none that pass in minutes.
but then, finding something perfect,
something that lays itself out delicately,
does stop my heart: i desire you,
i will desire you all week long.
you are something out of the usual,
and not what i expected or forecasted:
something bolder, and more willing,
something closer to maturation.

*

a nightly dose of sunshine,
the unexpected fondness of attraction.
say some more words, spend some more time
and wrap me around your finger.
i will be still, i will be sweet,
and i will allow you the access you need
to mine out my emotions and thoughts.
i am a dark tunnel, you are an oil lamp
that sputters and burns, and fills my lack
with fire and flicker and heady fumes.
you are winter's hurricane,
an oxymoron all fierce and bright.
you bring the dark, you shine like love.

*

we could make disasters together,
you and i.
we could make disorder and chaos
in all the splendid, wild natures of the world.
we could be an iceberg,
a floe moving steadily towards heat.
we could be an earthquake
and rattle the floorboards with lust.