Love, you

Love, you are a bonfire & I have
caught myself in the trails of your flame,
in the snare of your heartbeat,
in the sound of your name.

Love, you are a tattoo I cannot remove,
the ink of your presence dark upon my skin,
the air of your being, trapped inside me,
caught under my clothes & on my eye-lids.

Love, you are my mile marker.
You console me at every flat tire;
You drive down the highway at breakneck speeds
of ninety-plus miles per hour.

Love, you tailgate.
you
are
so
dangerous.

Love, you are my smiling muse as I photograph myself
every night, draped in expensive fabrics or none
at all: when I am alone, with the lights off,
staring & shuddering into the candlelight.

Love, you miss the way the shadows touch
my clavicle, you miss the way my hair
shines blood-orange in my pictures,
you miss everything: the lace, the velvet,
the skin and my wide eyes as I watch you.

Love, you bring me wine and tell me
you will make me an alcoholic
before this night is through. After all,
it's my house & I don't have to drive,
but love, I cannot get you drunk,
I cannot keep you here.

Love,
I cannot seduce.

I don't have to drive tonight,
but you do.