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he kisses with his eyes closed,
lids lowered so the lashes brush
the top of his cheek
he thinks
he is hiding something,
keeping me from some secret part of himself
that I canít discover with my lips
or the length of his body against mine.

heís right.

I have no words for him, no way to describe
his breathing and his arms around me like the comforter,
the way the air becomes champagne every time
he touches
and the milkshake-sweet smile he shines on me,
a grin so pure I want
to possess it with my lips
and take it home with me.
I have nothing but the familiar weakness in my thighs
and the slightest tremble
in his fingertips.

21 December 2002