Amber used to be a color
something from frankincense bible
a captured piece of the past
coated in sticky prison
wait for me to catch you
maybe we are caught in time
like sticky insects rubbing legs
I’m chasing your long legs into sounding shadows
amber was not the smell
of you opening yourself
to my low entreaty
leave me to run myself wild over
your freckled skin and tanned cheeks
It doesn’t matter how far
wait for me to catch you
my hands and your long hair loose
amber was not the liquid
honey mounting your urge
in my mouth
making ourselves sore on rhythm
we are jarring our cries for jam
wait for me to catch you
unbuttoned in savage grace
amber was not a gentle
rain of longing spilling
over my lips
clasping your laughter to my own
skipping in each thin wish bone
wait for me to catch you
surfaces falling away to expose
amber was a faraway thing
before you became the echoing girl
with honey colored hair
chasing my blushes with your narrow hips
between your thighs releasing
the past and future of all
rebuking color
changing behind movement
like a slow melting
amber sun rise