Saturday 31 August 2013

unadulterated love

my hands stroke the soft middle
my hands, they know you well
You are lived in,
and you are mine
the skin that bunches
slack against your bones
I want to swallow the very expanse of it
I want to swallow it whole
I burrow into every furrow
seep out of every pore
for every capillary crushed or not
holds the love I knew you bore
your muscle is going in your arms
but still your skin is thick
thinning down to paper thin on
the inside of both your wrists.
Your hair is faded and the 
unsightly ones, the wiry
unexpected ones
belong right where they are sewn in
your eyes are the knowing kind
they predict my every sigh
it's a wonder I don't read you
every time we lie-
the speed bumps and the speckles of pigmentation 
that don't mar your weather worn skin
map your contours as I travel you,
consume the life you have to give
the endless comfort and security 
to know, I know you've lived.

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