roaming

I have lost you many times.

Tossed about in the winds
of an ever-changing mind.

You return to me, now, in this final hour
admitting fault and revelation
Caressing these scars you bore upon me

As if the hurt has made me worthy

As if your lashings birthed my strength

You remind me of a time before mortal wounds
When I opened without hesitation
When I believed pain was proof of value.

You withheld affection
so that each touch might draw
my liquid love to pool at the surface,
each cell inside of me racing the others
to ripple around a morsel taste,
mere grains of fleeting desire.

i am Lush with adoration,
Alive, only at the tips of your fingers.
Raw nerves, aflame, at the ready, but
anticipation burns hot,
wick into ashes,
greens into browns,

I waited for you until memory failed.

You return expecting oasis, friend,
where your winds have left only sand.