You should sit-
this could take a while;
hurry won't happen here-
melting hearts take time-
the merlot is nice;
I've stopped the grandfather clock
put my eyes on lock--
on you.

Don't move an inch
I'll circle back
trace along your speghitti straps
motivate the plummeting
down to heaven's gate
so close
the wine sizzles
and I know wine shouldn't
but ours does
as I  bend
behind close
fingertips
curling circles
from shoulder to spine--
then all around
and down
and then the crackling,
the electricity
in the dizziness
of this dizzy time
I lurch,
as you do
in secret places
famished
from too many longings ago,
swept away, swept up
in the kiss that binds souls;
seekings find their home;
seat themselves
drinking deeply;
time suspended
in the body explosions
from within;
then halting breathings
and Realizations Shock
of what just transpired.