he says to me
now you can breathe
sharp intake of the heady nostalgia
tinged so slightly with the most
chartreuse of reactions
face in his hand
his firm grasp on
the control
we both know
he possesses
over me
oh, my silent soliloquy of solitude
a breath from your lungs
a drink from your lips
a dream from your sleepless nights
to come in through the back door
of your need
for a hand
in your hand
the ocean disappears
lost into the night as
a gaze unfurls
rolling down his nose
to land on my soul’s
receptors for connection
that connection
and I’m the captive
unsteady
audience
for this, his complete
conscious decision
to disregard the minute nuances
of my desire
to have him
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