The rain on the roof reminds me of the morse code my heart dot dash taps to my brain when I see you.
Except the message got lost on the way,
tangled in the memories of how your fingers feel on my skin,
how your kisses reach all the way to my toes,
which stretch up because they know my lips want you closer.
The irregular rhythm of my heart reminds me of how it skips a beat and heads straight for thump on it’s way to pound, a tempo that drives me to distraction, then conveniently loses the keys.