I want to live the high I get from lines embedded in your scalp
Received from the contact of my fingertips messing through your sawdust hair
Lacking a frothy shower, smelling of pure human,
Not some artificial musk.
I want the real you,
The sweat,
The blood,
The tears painting Native American designs on your belly button.
All 5'11" of your unique composition, including
Your esophagus spitting colloquial rhythms,
Brain stem communicating your radical ideals,
And trachea resonating hypnotic gregorian chants.
I want to nuzzle in the space where your heart belongs
And cuddle your muscles under my chin.
I want to exist inside of the real you,
Under the throat you swallowed me down,
Behind the jugular that gives me shelter.
And every evening while I drink your smiles to sleep
I'll polish your teeth for morning
To showcase your perfected beauty,
To educate others on my addiction for every edge,
Every corner of your soul and that which it resides in.