Come Kiss Me Rapid

Come kiss me rapid in the rain
and we can dance like spring does
in the last face of winter,
when the first shades of green
break gradual through white.

Your sugar-almond eyes were always
meant for kissing, those pursed lips
for loving and every laughter-line
creasing like age for caressing.
And I wonder - do my fingertips
fit their blueprints or do I
leave room for tears to filter through?

There were times when we were watched
from distances and laughed still;
jiving through summer, swaying into
autumn, sitting out winter. But now
there are cliff-faces in your eyes
catching the ocean breeze, crumbling
under the weight and forming jagged
pebble-tears that fall to rubble at your feet.

This is what life has made of a little you and I;
a smudge of collateral damage all frayed at the ends
so that, when I reach for you through silences, I
only touch the seams of something bigger
than these cloud-sized hands can cover.

Come, kiss me rapid in the rain, my sweet.
Let me wash all the precipices from your eyes.