Composition

I want to write poetry to you
on your naked back -
the pen slipping in my shaking fingers.
Your even breaths sloping my words.
Your hair tangling in the ink and drifting away.

I want to read the verses
through your teeth and tongue and eyes.
I want to smell them on your skin -
adding a comma or question mark
with a touch of my eyelashes against your cheek.

I want to watch the stanzas of shivering silence
weave through the air between us
to see through to the other side
where we are poem and verse.