Safe With You

I am anticipating lights, heat. You.
Waiting for descent and your smile.

I  have half terrified myself,

studying secrets, wondering
if I, too, should yield.

I am plotting my next session

with the therapist I don't have.
Revealing fleeting, flitting,

swollen, spinning drifts that

sound like someone else.
Should I mention that

I've been having trouble spelling?

I think of pre-nostalgia
so, of course, you.

But I am safe with you.

Somehow.  And I don't want
to dig for bones.  I just want you.