My hands grasp you,
tightly.
traces of cinnamon
explode on my tongue
within the sweetness
of honey
I inhale
your hazy heat,
the swirls of vapor
whispering
as if they are
my own words,
but are being spoken
without me
the scent of sweetness
grows stronger
every time I
bring you close
the warmth spreads
into my hands,
which then makes
its way past
and into the rest
of my body,
replacing the chill that’s
always calling
your edges are stained
caramel
from the previous nights
I spent with you
like yesterday, full of
something else
something even sweeter
and richer
tomorrow, your sweetness
I will taste
in all this bitterness misplaced,
as long as my hands
can grasp you,
tightly.