GROWTH

Tonight, you trace the name
you want to give me in this,
with beautiful penmanship in your fingers.

Around my heated ears,
across my warmed kissing lips,
coming so far in this lesson and journey.

I can't wait for the next letter
in your signature touch;
but I do each time -- each better.

Hear my mind and heart
already busy whispering,
then calling out your name -- ours!

What you are to me, I already have it
so deep in my being I could never lose it,
but fingers trace on.

Sensations leaving a trail,
of the somewheres we have been,
like Indian Mounds to white water canyons.

I hear muffled words and echos
and yet, (listen again)
neither of us has spoken ...

just you, oh, just you
writing your name on me again,
until I beg you to plant it instead.

(c) 2003 Rennie Lorca