I found synchronicity between
the glow of her cheeks
and the warm flicker in my stomach,
heat piercing my skin and pulsing inward
along pepper-flaked tracks.
Those cheeks that dimple just for me
(so she says) and I feel selfish
in a maniacal pursuit of more,
chasing the sun like cranes flocking
along more southern routes.
Relentless night comes (earlier sometimes
for her) with a kind of tiny death
as she says good-bye or falls asleep before
and those cheeks lay warm on her pillow, hidden
until we wake up and do it again.
© 2021 Phillip Knight Scott