Sillage

You make dreams whisper
And excite them into a boil.

Like a fading romance you
Linger at the tip of my
Wet tongue.

I can almost touch you.

Sillage.
You rile me up like
An aging storm
Refusing to end.

At least do more than
Just skirt the edges of my
Famished nose,
I need to drink you up.
I need to put a finger on you
So I can find the direction
That leads to you.
My compass is failing.

Can’t you see
You make a needy soul
Of me.

Come closer.
So I can bathe
These insides aching for
Another whiff of you.

Sillage.
Dance inside me.
Make a ballroom of my
Heart and keep
The music running.

Come closer.
So I can put a finger on you.
So I can tell which way to look.
My compass is failing.
Can’t you see?

Come to me.

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