where longing lives

Let me feel the poetry
of you upon me,
in the light and shaded movement of your skin,
as leaves dance before a storm
excited on their branches.

Let me hear the sound
when passion begins to win
and cresting waves break,
when depths are only places plummeted.

Chase me to your touch
so I may take these curves,
a hunter heading home
hungry from the hills
where longing lives.