I will begin on the plains of your abdomen,
gently tracing their rise and fall
as breath enters and escapes your lips
noticing like mountain dew,
how sweat begins to glisten on your skin

And moving up toward your northern exposure
I’lll scale your round, soft mountains,
achingly slowly yet steady just the same
while you beg me
to reach the sensitive peaks
But twirling just around them,
refusing your demand to bite,
and leaving two soft kisses where
a flag would otherwise stand

Then charting a course around either side
of your most golden coast,
instead gently running my fingers
(with ice held between them)
down your peninsulas,
toward the straights of your inner thighs
across the narrows that lay behind your knees
And though you spread your geography
to create an inlet to your ocean,
I will instead continue to attend to
the peninsulas’ ends,
greatly in need of attention
as they’ve carried your land
from place to place without complaint

Then rolling the landscape asunder
And revealing your southern exposure to the sky
I’ll gently explore your heart shaped dunes,
Soft yet firm, causing a vibration in the ground
as you express your approval with the progress
of the expedition

Moving on to the edges and ridges of your
so strong back, your femininity pronounced only more so
by how strong and broad your shoulders,
I’ll hold and rub them firm, thankful for the place
upon which my head at times will rest

And finally, the last frontier of this journey
The soft sweet center of your landscape
like swollen earth between my lips,
and then our hips like rolling hills
An earthquake slowly building
tectonic plates shifting out of place
until the world begins to shudder,
the room shake, and then fall silent
as our two bodies remain as one
while drifting off to explorations
found among our dreams


(National Pornographic was the alternative name)