I'd spend days walking the line of your jaw
dipping between the ridges of your mouth
and skipping rocks along your shoulder blades

I'd spend hours on the bones in your hips
sliding below your skin,
form-fitting handles, molding like clay
to the shape of my hands

I'd paint the walls of my skull with your voice
filling the lonely rafters of my ribs,
rhythmic swells through the tides of my mind
following the contraction of your laugh

I'd lose my hopelessness in this  noise,
and from the labyrinth of you
never seek escape

                      
                                  ­                as if i ever had a choice