When We Need to . . .

By Mona Lisa Saloy

When I need you to hold me, and

you lean just inches away, maybe

I can't tell you how I need to, sometimes.

Sounds easy that one can just say something

to someone, but some words come like bricks in

your throat, and the brow bleeds, and female parts

butterfly, and I surrender to your need for

a hug in your eyes when you can't tell

me, but I can hear it in your purr some-

times, in your pouring over me like

honey, hot and golden, touching inch by inch,

finger to fold in heat, and the way those

chestnut eyes follow me like an airplane,

when we need to be held, and we can't say.