My Eyes on You

My eyes, they cross the bridge
to your beauty day and night,
Too fine a fluid line,
drawn with your jenga winning grin.

My eyes are not exotic,
nor are they sleepy in your moonlight;
They are flames,
in your forest,
burning and exact.
Taking moments of our closeness,
making food to feed my soul.

My eyes on you querida,
Their movement is a bird
in their first of many flights,
every blink is just a wing
wrapping round the rising moonlight.

They will not leave you,
my beloved. . .
but they stretch
like a folded arm,
   pinned
by our sleepy numbness,
then quickly, moving through dark
they find the first bridge back.

Eyes closed, do I find you,
sleeping next to me.
Our hearts make love in poetic time,
and breathing. . .
our breathing,
is a slow dance,
that we practiced,
every day before we met.

I give you (part 1)

Sometimes, I will dream your eyes when I close mine
And then a hectic day will smooth with pleasure, sublime
To you I write this sweet champagne, but know this
is prayer, and map; A song I sing with words unspoken.

To trace the lines of your ears, mi susuro dichoso
I take the sound of every cat's footfalls,
and the songs of silvery fish in gossamer deep,
Set them like a note of blue glacier on stone,
as a backbeat for all the days of our journey.

For your dangerous, heart-stopping curves hermosa,
I cut a gold-green dress from eyes fixed upon the sun,
a necklace of twilight treasures, snatched from a cat's eye,
Strung like morning dew, on threads of moonlight silver,
And place for my hand on the shivering small of your back

I make passionate kisses for your mind, mi amante,
Bawdy songs in irish pubs, slinky riddles for the club,
With paintings of dream, and poetry from steam,
They fold maps so we're closer, leap time, so we're together
Open your pages to my touch, and I shall sign my name.

It will not be a duck.