L’appel du vide

I like you.
I like the dip
of your eyes,
brown and small,
but all I can see

in quiet seconds.
I like the smile lines
around your eyes,
emerging
when you wake

from our kisses.
I like dissolving
my fingers
through your hair
like spring rain—

We are the drops
that shake loose
from morning leaves.
Opalescence
rushes with you,

through you—
I am terrified
of falling in the sun.
Falling in the night
would keep the ground

ever at the next
moment—
But your eyes
steady the air
that leaves me

breathless.
I like that we are
sighs.