Love Bagels

You turn over my hands,

Handing me a million reasons to

Hand you my affection.

You touch the small of my back,

A tiptoeing rush sent

From your fingertips

All the way up my spine,

Sifting through the subway labyrinth,

Together,

Lost amidst the potpourri of people.

You give me emptied wine glasses stained

With midnight laughter.

You are my Paris,

San Francisco,

Spain,

Italy,

The entire New York cityscape.

I lie next to you,

Watch your sleepy eyes sigh,

The weight of your propelling intellect at rest,

And I lose you to

The muffled roar of

Crashing salt waves,

An infinite tide

From the depths of your belly.

Our love,

Cupped but not contained,

Growing but still new,

Fragile but never broken.

I want to kiss every part of your face

Without you knowing

As you hazily drift in and out,

Back and forth.

You give me the scent of toasted bagels in the morning.

Cream and sugar in my coffee;

You

In equal amount

Offer me comfort and desire.