Gazing
Location
One night I sat up
watching stars collect clouds
in their pockets,
pulls the moon in a wagon of wind
past the windows of the room,
edges of night blew
lit footprints to tackle your
frame,
smothered in pillows,
hands anchoring down my side
of the bed,
clutching the place where
my hips had been
embedded in your palms,
where my torso was molded into yours –
I didn't bother to move your arms
grabbing your scent on sheets
I wrap you around me until
we are a
reflection of mahogany and silk leaves,
nuzzled my head into locks like roots,
remembering that stars have to move forever
but I,
have rooted myself into you.