Each pink curving line my lips would kiss
Gentle press of flesh against sacred flesh
Divine sculpture, shaped and sealed like this
Scars as vines of life beginning afresh
Next trace along each ink line, old and new
Histories of life lived and battles won
Windows of a soul I could fall into
Warm and soft like the rising of the sun
Morning sun stretches when kisses meet throat
Along jawline and across cheekbones to nose
Songs of dawn birds meaningless and remote
Wrapped as we are in this sublime repose
Skin to true skin, heart to exalted heart
I am devout worshiper of your art