Stuff of Stars

To kiss her hips is to reach up
through the clouds
and pull the warmth
of the sun
over
my face
like Cupid's
war paint.

She smells of
Earthy flowers,
and I consume
her nectar
and my body feels
like I'm
sitting in a field
rubbing my bare feet
in the grass.

Hitting snooze together
is like
a full body sigh.
I pull her left wrist over
her body
and she shuffles
herself back into me
for one more
reset.

Sometimes I wonder
how many lives
we've lived together.
Do we always find one another?
If not, I don't want to be reincarnated.

I imagine us running
in the fields
of some far off land
like children
laughing and falling to the ground
together
and
becoming
the seed to a forest.

People would return
to that site
with children and grandchildren
to tell the story of the
deep love
that fertilized their land.

Some people say you can
still hear the laughter
on a windy day
and
when it rains
you can hear the feet
pattering on the grass.

Every year on the anniversary
of the
day they met
a beautiful flower
arises
from the ground
and
shines in the sun
for one day.

I imagine us old and happy,
dancing together in our livingroom
heart to heart
feeling the warmth
and
love
of another lifetime together.