In my mornings I live like a blind man
and carry my fingers around your body up down up back to the soft skin behind your ear towards the bones of your hips and back to touch the slight dimple where the curve of your nose ends
Waiting for you to tell me it's enough
but you never do
The reason everything from my cuticles to my light wrists slither on your leather shell every morning
without exception
is just so I can memorize every single bit of you
before I must carry my own weight away
so those three white metallic eagles can fly me across the seas
to the bed I haven't slept in for 358 days
You kiss my lust out of it's sleep to drape it over your pelvis
Boats stay silent and still
surrounded by wandering waves
before my intoxicated and damp eyes
and I hope you are going to love me more than all of those arches of bent down spines
cracking underneath my collapsed sanity
