Molehills

You smell like heaven and half-light,
like angel-dust and iron pyrite,
a thousand kisses, a thousand nights,
it wouldn’t be enough…

Should I tell you I love you
among this dust?
Should I run, and never look back?
How about I just scratch my nails
across your skin?
How about we don’t talk, but hold
the devil-words in..?
…the ones with all the reasons,
and the rationality…
how about we don’t
handle
feasibility..?
For tonight,
how about we
laugh? And ignore all mountains
in our path?

I’ll help you over them
tomorrow,
when we stop feeling our time
is borrowed from beyond
the stars. Tonight, let me trace your scars,
your veins, your marks, your lines…

and give yourself
over, please –
I want to make you
mine.