Waking the Stars

All day long we wrap ourselves in each other and wait 

for the stars to wake us from a dream that is more 

treasure-hunt than sleep.

Your fingers run across my back like a fine brush 

trying to recover a temple buried in dry skin and 

old bone. 

And when I touch your pearl, the sea runs down 

your thigh and I catch foam on the tip of my tongue, 

tasting salt mingled with rose-hips and honey.

When night finally falls and a blue sky collapses

into darkness, we wander under heaven, and it is we 

who wake the stars.