Art by Maria Cazzato

Crystalline drops of conversation hang
from chapped lips, decorating
my chin like a
chandelier.

Red beryl skies molt in the summer, shed
auburn kisses on rosy cheeks, and
glisten in pupils, cool
to the touch.

Fingertips caress, arms grasp, eyes hold, my
bedazzled body no
greater than a
grain of sand.

His skin against mine,
his soft sea eyes,
I coalesce.