"idle creations"

Warmed, kept close and buried tight,
I spend my nights, my days, on flight,
the time between your breaths holds dear,
my heart, my soul, my life's career.
 
That said, one wonders why my lips speak not more.
I really lose track of thoughts, I fall.
I wander and I fail to gather entry, facing doors,
that keep me held, as if crumbled under wall.
 
Some words leave me seconds from their birth.
my mind either calmed or cradled, I rock.
To my doom or joy I spin, as if burnt,
my hands smoky and ashen, unlocked.
 
Some moments I can sing, or write,
my ideas trapped for display before all.
My feelings extracted like spices,
I smile and feel that I am not as small.
 
To the world I am but a speck of dust, a pollen,
I can be easily over trodden or swept away,
yet you see me in the wastelands, and I am not forgotten.
You my love, make me want to face the day. 
 
The night has always been so very dear, like my own skin.
In it I could wallow and hide, be ashamed and proud.
Under its guise, its skirt I could hide, gather and begin,
any adventure, any quest, but now I hear your love so loud.
 
I know you love me, especially when we fight.
I taste your love when we sweat and moan.
It fills my body, nearly patching the holes, the blight,
but it is weary from use and what is has been shown.
 
When you're weary, sometimes I don't want to understand.
I feel the pain inside but don't do enough to just remain,
open armed, close-mouthed, and warm like sand,
allowing you to wander and find the way to explain.
 
I love you for many reasons, including ones I don't know myself.
There's just something that flows from you, like liquid joy.
I feel better around you, I feel more like a completely stocked shelf.
I'm better able to breath in the world of traumas, terror, and toys.
 
People want us to touch but not break.
People want us to taste but not eat.
They claim we must not yearn, but I do, I lust.
I yearn to live life in your arms, I must. 
 
I knew that when I read your first words,
I burned as your beauty baked into my skin.
Every day I am wakened, tempted and lured
by your essence, that which makes me sin.
 
I do not believe I am erred in loving you,
and every day I shall try to prove this case.
To make you see how much you truly are worth,
from the tips of your toes, to the glowing flesh of your face.