I won't rest until you know
that my name sounded best
coming out of your mouth
sliding between your lips and
rolling off your tongue
and sticking onto the *****
of my neck

I need you to know
that your finger tips
belong on the small of my back
or pressed against my lips
amongst the silence before a kiss
and nothing on this earth beats
being tangled up
in your bed sheets
where my extra skin
and awkward curve
may surpass without the judgment
of your mattress and be caressed
as if you didn't have the nerve
and constant urge
to make me believe
I was beautiful

but I don't see it

because when I think of beautiful
I think of your smile
and popsicles
and sunsets

I think of how falling asleep in
your arms is only second best
to waking up in your chest
with your heartbeat in my ear
and my face against your flesh
you once told me

that your favorite time of day
was the way
the sun shifted in harmony
against the bay
of my labored breathing
crashing along the rocks
of your insides
in a nonstop riptide
at five a.m

I then decided

that the way the rays of sunday
morning sunshine
bent before our eyes
knew nothing of beauty compared
to the warmth that lies
between our blankets and
a fresh black brew

fingers and toes and
god only knows
the only place I feel beautiful
is among the morning dew
in bed with you