dear paul

tonight, more than anything, i long to dance with you
 to be embraced by your lean, long arms
 like a cluster of young fruit
 growing up within the embrace
 of the blueberry branches in july
 

when we dance your body is like a rocking chair
 sturdy, and swaying with the music
 i sink into your frame
 same as i would when i was a tired child
 nuzzling into the embrace of the foregone wooden rockers
 that adorned my great grandmother's front porch
 

i yearn to hear the creaks of your soft wooden voice
 wafting above my hair
 as i twirl 'round you