a piece of cotton candy,
sweet and lingering
so sweet I am blushing
your glance leaves me burning
I dare not speak. I dare
reach out and touch your
face and trace
fingers over your lips. I dare kiss you. I dare open my vaulted heart.
I double dare you to run away to disappear into the fire, dancing and engulfed, your laughter echoes through the night I remember you beaming, eyes shining. White wolves and prancing deer high into the mountain tops. I hear you singing.
I dare you to take my hand,
Come back home.
I want to wake up each day to your sweet face and ruffled hair. I want to hold you. I need you to kiss my hands and hold me until I release into your arms, dare to allow you to comfort me. I want to pick blueberries with you in the summertime, Louisiana sticky heat. Welcome home. Walk the marshes with me, carrying a white candle, blessed by the Arch Bishop. Your head bowed in prayer, the Spanish moss filtering light to your green beanie, your flushed cheeks, your confessional.
Tell me all you are afraid of and all you desire to be forgiven.
Lay your head in my lap as we float down the dark Bayou Sauvage, idle and savoring the unquestionable hold of warm water. Drink in the smell of decay, honeysuckle scent of new life. Let me run my nails through your hair. Let me love you here.
I dare you to surrender with me
I dare you to stay.