My Eyes

Dart to the spaces between your eyes and the spaces between your lips. We intertwine.
The smell of juniper berry body wash and sweat soaks the back of your neck. The careless sun flicks freckles onto the bridge of your nose. Your lips embalmed with cherry, waxy, kisses from those who came before me and became a part of you. You hide your spaces between from me, why? I live in those spaces. I live in your eyes, lips, and hallways of your heart. I’m tucked into bed there and tuned into the echo of your chasms. Oh, how they sing my name back and back and back. Those voices drench me in warmth and tell me that I don’t know of everything and never will. I can’t help but wonder how this night would end without the whiskey and the gin. Would you stare back at my spaces between? Yours give way to kittens and honey and coddling. Mine reveals thin, cold air and gray-green clouds. So I sneak in once again and pull the covers over my head and over your mind and fall asleep to the lullaby that is your superego.