Petrichor

whispers

"But not on here" you say,
for this isn't the right place.
Ours is reserved
for whispers in ears
and kisses on cheeks.
It is when our noses brush,
or you push my hair behind my ear.
Inimate and wild.
Hushed voices,
loss of breath,
hearts racing.
Holding one another,
not letting go.
As our fingers trail
down our torsos
mapping out every detail.
I relax despite the shiver
and nestle into your arms
trying to describe this feeling.