your fingers carve canyons in my spine
digging to the deepest reaches of me,
and i am exposed.
you are pulling me close enough to you that
it is a surprise that we do not melt together;
your skin becomes mine; mine, yours.
we are one and the same.
you are changing my geography;
i am shaking, an earthquake.
you have broken open my fault-lines.
i have been told that bites, craters,
are lovenotes on the skin.
what, then, are these,
these canyons that trail my back?
you have left scars on me:
not scars that wound,
scars that change.
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 8:37 PM UTC
your fingers carve canyons in my spine
digging to the deepest reaches of me,
and i am exposed.
you are pulling me close enough to you that
it is a surprise that we do not melt together;
your skin becomes mine; mine, yours.
we are one and the same.
you are changing my geography;
i am shaking, an earthquake.
you have broken open my fault-lines.
i have been told that bites, craters,
are lovenotes on the skin.
what, then, are these,
these canyons that trail my back?
you have left scars on me:
not scars that wound,
scars that change.
(c) shiloh renee 2013
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