A Voice Without Language

Let me trace your ribs with my finger-

tip-

toe over the hairs that layer your stomach.

Find home in the skin that encompasses

The place I seek to know.

 

Let me lick and lust for your empty words,

mere thoughts that are just noise

as they escape your mouth. A voice without language,

a moan against your tongue.

 

Let me interlace my fingers

through the notches of your spine.

Safety-pin my understanding in the creases

of your mind.

 

Let me hold the armour that nests you,

as I wear it as my own.

When you’re inside let me

come

home.

 

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