Thoughts rustle quietly

in the jacarandas behind your eyes

fields of twisting branches

reaching forward and then retreating back

never uttering a sound

Time quickening on your skin

my pulse quickening in response

At first they fell on me like sunshine

a warm breeze that left me confused

and hungry

for something I couldn’t know

now they lap at my skin, scorching

laughing quietly to themselves

still leaving me aching and wanting

always wanting more

I can’t place that sweetness

Is that the heat of your lips

or the sting of your teeth

better not to look,

I like how it feels