I want to lay with you.
to tangle my limbs with yours,
but out of peace,
melting into the warmth of your skin
(why are you always so warm?)
until the ice cold water of my own
becomes lukewarm,
stable,
tranquil.

cradle me beneath the sheets, please;
caress my hair and tell me with your touch
how much you love me
even if I can't- won't?- couldn't possibly
let you any closer
than skin on skin on scars,
fighting that precious balance
between comfort and loss.
teach me how to sleep again,
how to dream about you without waking up
with tear tracks on dusty cheekbones.

I want to feel your hands caress
the body I never really loved,
to teach me to love it,
to count and bless every freckle
and blemish
and the scars, visible and not,
cherishing the valleys and hills
of this pale, forbidden landscape.
erase away the memory of past hands
that did not know love
by the sheer gentle power of your own.

the trouble is,
that love is no longer mine.
I long for the long lost
with an ache that is palpable,
nestling in the hollows of my body
and wailing a soft lament in each sigh
of every sleepless night.
your fingers never traced these paths
because I was so afraid,
but was I afraid of you
or the monsters in the dark?