You first kissed me in a doorway,
and if that isn’t poetic enough I don’t know what is.
You opened doors I had barred shut –
and I want to hold your eyes in the palm of my hand,
shield them from the horrors of the world.
Hold back the pain that’s bleeding in from behind those doors.
You have oceans of patience pooling in those wet eyes,
and you bathe me in it to the point of drowning.
And I am warmed in your heart-fire
and the quiet fervour of your being.
I live for the soft inkiness of your raven hair as you shower kisses over my scars,
Hold me close and warm like no one else can.
Fill me with joy like no one else can.
Savouring those sweet few moments I can lie in the hollow of your chest and drink the sound of
You are my shelter, you are my plaster,
helping me fill in my cracks so that my skin is smooth, and strong, and watertight.
Oh thank God for you.