ap·peal /əˈpēl/
           (V).*          
I never thought I'd get caught in you
especially in this way.

There you were,
you laid there
I saw not your face
but the creases on your back
your skeleton took me
in harmony.
And it's if I had found
the cursive scripture
of your bones in the ripples
of your morning skin.

There I was,
wondering if I had even
made a slight movement
that I would harm the scene.
Maybe it was cotton, polyester
between us and the
**** charisma underneath
but it built such
awe in the vessels of my body
as it did*.

I didn't need to touch you
to get caught
in the monument that
is you,
Before the day had even started
Before the night had wanted to say
goodbye.