.
I don't put my knees to task so much these days
But I like to think it's worth
bargaining with divine entities
to get the chance to
wake up to the light in your eyes, the shape of your lips,
those slow urgent moves that transcend waistlines
the winks, the twitching, and the rhythmic jiggling of
smooth mounds of flesh
which visual representations from flashlights
fail to do justice to.
.
I dream of ways to
decode the source of power
behind that voice that actually flows to my throat,
akin to pink flavours of yoghurt
the soothing way the letters
of my name alight from
the tip of your tongue,
and healing that comes from
the sound of your breathing
over wires that stretch for hundreds of miles.
.
I may not have the fullest picture
of what "home" is,
but if this is it, I will gladly take off my socks,
fling my vest to obscure corners
make a fireplace out of your skin, substitute mugs of coffee with the warmth moisture of your lips
.
I am used to wandering, but if oblivion is the price to pay for shelter, then let me be forgotten between your arms, left for dead at your bosom, buried neck deep at the intersection between navel and thigh
Let sincere hugs cause me to forget the world
and I hope it won't be too much to ask
for my fingers to search for playgrounds
amongst every layer of hair on your skin.
