Cherish,
the strayest fibers
thinning mouth to prayer,
airing lips
this side of kiss.
Savor,
how words,
transgressing grammar,
mate in the middle
of a sentence
and melt,
when no one is looking.
Where you are not,
I have found just cause
for form, blanks folded
and tucked,
to cinch gapes
and frayed cords.
At the heart of the matter,
this,
become your own valentine,
again and again,
and sculpt a blessedly illicit affair,
in perpetual fount
and bask.
There are lace panties,
and there are cliffs.
When considering a jump,
note the hazards,
and the marked distinction between
diving in
or off.
I do not say I love you,
but I notice how your fingers
twine and wrap around empty,
tracing broken circles in the air
when you are nervous.
I do not say I love you,
but there is a spot on the nape of your neck,
which radiates blush with the slightest tease
or provocation, and I do not tell you
how I belong to it,
its small history, and wisps of symmetry
soldering pink to gasp.
I do not say I love you,
Silence, you see, my longstanding master,
having taught me the gauzy reckon
of slow holy burn,
and ice floes, papered with daisies,
adrift in motherless golden haze,
perpetrating nature as silent cinema
with lines and actors to spare.
I do not say I love you,
but I know all of your hiding places,
and have left bread-crumbs there to commemorate
your movements between revelation and secrecy.
I do not say I love you,
for there are words, unborn, wanting, waiting,
wanting, hard-pressed to become
roseblood on vellum edges,
pinches brightening subtle measures
and violent pauses.
I do not say I love you,
but I dutifully observe and record
every starred recognition,
turning the world on its ear,
tracing my mouth to the air that your hands
just touched then abandoned.
I do not say I love you,
but I do not forget, ever.
Memory, exact in its tether
to origins, shows me
a home,
a harbor,
an exchange to marry music
to breath in frets and starts.
I do not say I love you,
my voice, time-locked to nuance,
finds you again and again
in poems,
bound between the cross-hairs
of absence
and praise.