Curtains

Too close or too far

I change and bend to meet your movement

Lithe and hard

I love the feel of your cold feet against my warm body

The balance of touch and the giving

heart, beat, rises to your anger

Trying to match your pace

Sort of breath against your lips

Wordless

This us the greatest poem I will ever write

Clumsy though I am

I sit down to the page every day and pen love

Against the edits you have made

Praying writer's block will fade

And that you'll feel it

Thrown, falling, perchance to wake

I wish I saw something of the future

In the music of your face