These Things I Keep

I'm stringing together a necklace
of all my favorite words,
amber, fire, churn, and press,
hush, sweep, your caress.

Skin, skin,
rouse,
begin.

When it's final, complete,
the waltz of the letters
will rest
upon my chest, whispering as feathers,
breath, sweeping and swooping,
dipping and daring.

Skin, skin,
rouse,
begin.

Adorning, always, the jewels
bound--association,
fragrant memory. Tools
of my mind, reconstructing
the stories that lull
me into a deep slumber, night
after night.

Skin, skin,
rouse,
begin.

Buds, distant, deep, and wise.
These and more
behind my eyes.
Heart, tickle, hip, and skies,
around my neck,
in far off cries.

Skin, skin,
rouse,
begin.