In the way he pronounced her name, a spark,
With kisses that interrupted some of her sentences, the fuel,
That ignites it all into a roaring flame, an orange burning fire.

Stretching miles in the deepest part of his eyes, a forest,
Dancing in the reflection of her treacherous seas—
His woods are clouded with smog,
Thick enough to engulf the stars of a Chicago night,
Her oceans swallow him whole,
Not bothering to let him up for a gasp of air.

As it goes, they stay lost in each other for hours,
Guided through mind mazes by fingertips that creep along skin,
They’re both sprinkled with clues in every pore,
Both searching diligently to bury themselves deeper—
Entangling herself in the roots of his trees, she is,
While he is dancing on her shoreline when ferocious waves break.

Hearts beat in uphill rhythms as they find their way back,
A reality awaits them in the binding of satin bedding, a need for sleep,
And the love beyond journeys that is asking to be made.