Fortunate to be handled by him
His hands touching wax to bright
Glow blinding roars to whistle
Shoring my peculiar waist with sight

The ambitious manuscript
Of this love of ours
Cultivating my craft
Underneath the words I write

My tenderest lover awaits
And as he reads this
I am not afraid
My body he touches

With the severity of his shoulders
I listen to the man taping into my chest
Primitively finding me chewing my grace
Cautiously prancing wet woods

Rearranging the pebbled stones
To curve his firm legs satisfied
Bashfully exposing our flesh

With a surge wide enough to veil dawns
Trembling and encircling this night
The rich dark green beneath our time

The real mortality that hides behind our eyes
Where our childhood poises and pauses for breath
With lungs who once laughed oxygen
Happily suffocating the perfect space

Of mouths freely kissing
Forgiving what most call sins
Shaping our hearts with skulls
And our valves with sympathy

Because of you our birth remembers the waters that grace this wonderful aching fate. Loving you has never been anymore clearer.

Thank you,

Yours