You
With your
Presently
Bending
Curls
Beginning
To grow back
Starting again
To tickle
My fingertips
Your soft hair
Contrasting
Every rough
Outer Edge
That makes up
You
Every Edge
That I have
Only barely
Begun
To soften
Like sharp
Edges
Of my
Childhood
Sea glass
Tumbled
With Sand
I wait
Patiently
To see how
You form

The corners
Of your face
Two
Sharp
Almost
Right Angles
Come together
At your chin
Just below
A blonde
Patch
Of sunlit
Beard
That sits
Beneath
Your
Lower lip
Curling gently
To meet
Its upper
Half
Though rare
To glance
Your direction
And catch
A comet
I call
A smile
Here
is one
of my
Favorite
Pieces
Of you

Your southern
Eyes
Though
Baby blue
Say nothing
Of sympathy
They hold
Cool curiosity
At times
Your gaze
Is softened
Before shifting
Looking past
Me
Settling Shortly
Like you
Then Quickly
Growing
Restless

Your Dimples
Press in
Lifting
The corners
Of your smile
Erasing
Your gruff
Canadian
Edges
Only Briefly
Before exiting
With your
Adorable
British smile
At times
Your little
Crescent moons
Hide
Camouflaged
Into your face
Covered up
By both
Coarse and soft
Red and blonde
Rough and welcoming

Your arms
Hardened
Wrap around
Me
Nothing
Of you
is Forgiving
Your body
Doesn't budge
As I lean
Into yours
With mine
Folding myself
Into your
Chest
Against your
Body
The softest
Part of you
Is me
Like Sandpaper
You rub away
At my skin
Lifted calluses
Of your palm
Take to
Curved Edges
Of my
Rounded corners
All the more
Smooth
in your
Embrace

You
Move
Me
Up
And
Down
You fill
My body
With yours
Pour me
Full
Of curiosity
Of daydreams
Of yesterday
And tomorrow
Emptied
To come back
For More
I want
To keep
My eyes open
While you
Kiss me
I want
To see
You
Like my
Sea glass
Rough
As you
Pull
And
Push
And
Tumble
Away
Softened
Moving
Into me
As the flesh
Of my cheek
Falls
To your chest