Stairs

Up, up the stairs
he's slowly tugging
my slick, pixie hands
dead weights of cracked
glass won't hurt him.

Leading to a nowhere
stairs collect, deep
windows command a
blurred gaze for the
tight seconds we're still.

He'll pluck me apart from
one solid second gaze,
settled desire clung
with slipping tendrils to
the sun and its baby summer.

I'm pulled back to him
like I'm his summer and
he my sun, but we won't
be back, merely up the
stairs to a chilled nowhere.