No.36

Bodies pushed so closely together
your ear dovetails my eye socket.
It's downy softness
and underlying spring of bouncy cartilage quite sensual.
I want to melt into you
meld our skin, our sinews,
our bones
into one
so that I lose track of what is yours, and
what is mine.
I knit my fingers into the delicately curled hairs on your chest
and wish I could keep one hand there,
on your chest,
always,
undertaking the mundane tasks of life with the other,
cursed hand.
Oh how jealous that hand would be.