Our hands,
like roots of trees -
each finger, each tendril
gripping like stitches
in clothing.

My arm wrapped around your belly as
I map my way around your body
with tender traces,
with delicate whispers.

Your hair feels like a sea of silk;
A faint smell of showers
is all I can sense.

My heart beats behind yours.
I track the time with the
synchronicity of our beating.
Hours, minutes, and seconds
all lose meaning,
melting into a singular point in time.

All I know is you.
The map of you I carefully carved
on your
blank canvas.

The world fades away
as mist during a blinding sun.
All that is left are
two hearts,
a map,
a cartographer, and
you.

I am lost at sea.
This moment is my anchor.
You are my compass.