Your palms take me to Narnia
because your hands are another dimension
and when you hold my head so tender
and your fingers brush my tears
I swear I hear the low thrum of love,
You clasp your hand in mine, interlock
I taste the last of summer rain – gold
I smell the moment between tears and laughter
Your gaze is infinity
An infinity that I want to enter
how have you done this to me?
how have you shown me paradise in the corner of your smile?
in the creases by your eyes?
in the dimples on your cheeks?
I’m still not a hopeless romantic.
But I know that you are there.