smitten

there's a milkyway pooling

in the indentations of my heels

and the air's a little thick with lust,

                                     with static,

                                     with stardust,

the back of your knees bump mine

and there's a thunderstorm gathering

in the small of my back, twisting tight,

your face embraces mine like an old flame

warm, incandescent and affectionate,

and if you're blushing,

                 well,

                        we can always

                                     blame it

                                               on

                                                   the

                                                       damn

                                                              good

                                                                      beer.

steady drips

like that elusive dream,

slipping out between my fingers,

dripping through the gaps,

of my prayer-cupped hands

i can't remember your face,

anymore.