gilded man

my mind still lingers on that night between the shelves

when fingertips grazed Huxley and turned my eyes alight

casting silhouettes across spines

he is your favorite escape

lips part

words in the form of gilded gold across your chest

with skin like the pressed parchment of pages

and whispers like the soft turn of words against words I fell

we would lie with words entangled in the darkness

your mind ensnaring mine in a way most endearing

and you lose sleep wondering if I am bound the same way you are

an ache like a fire emanating from lingering words

lingering worlds to which I cannot return

and I am consumed