Understand

Understand that if I request your hand,
It is to recklessly run a track of glass in hiking boots.
To laugh wickedly, and wordlessly enjoy the velvet heat
of one another’s palm,
To trade lustful glances that would make the Devil
feel left out.

Understand that if we wander into a churchyard,
I might admire your angles and hues against the chapel’s white.
I might wish to taste the flesh of your neck
in sweet sanctuary air,
And you may inhale it deeply, my dear, for I will ask
no promises at the altar.

Understand that if I follow behind you,
I am as likely to trip you as kiss you tenderly.
I am a man, a boy with a smirk and skinned knees,
You are standing at the screen door, fidgeting after dinner.

Understand that if my candor confounds you,
You need only to trust and tilt your head towards the sun.
I will never withold your spirit on my highest pantry shelf.
I will never fold up your soul and toss it into my fish bowl.