What I want starts with an intake of shared air, a leaning-in.
My spine a star-gaze arch - a neat reflection of yours.
A mouth-to-mouth silence broken, made whole - by small language
born of not knowing, and of knowing too well.
I want to trace symmetry in your neck, your back: Learn the shape
and position of vertebrate, of the discs in between -
Infuse them with an energy to resist time, to resist
history’s repetitions.
I want my weighted thoughts to wash through the
base of my skull into your cradle-hand,
Want to hear the rush of them down your arm, their echo
through the in-and-out spaces of lungs.
I want them to pour fully formed from your feet to the floor
- through nerves un-frayed and strong.
Remember: It’s a want my Love, not a need.
What I need is you here.