brown: take my breath away

reliable like old, worn shoes let me count on you. can i count on you? be as solid as the four corners of my bed, can you be that solid? can you be that good and caramel coloured? can you roll over me and tell me each of my freckles, every single last freckle, tastes like your great-granny's peanut butter cookies, and lick your lips? can you? can you sleep beside me and let my body fit you like an acoustic guitar? can you come with your hands smelling of cedar, from working all day in the garage, and leave tell tale traces behind on my skin, espresso markings. can you take me to bed and lie me down upon shavings of cinnamon and kiss and quote michael ondaatje and kiss and quote michael ondaatje and kiss. can you? can you buy me a pair of carmel mittens, hold my hand in public, take my breath away? let me count on you; would you let me count on you?

© Heather Simeney MacLeod