i'd like to trace a map
on your skin with the
tip of my finger. it sounds
like this has been done before
but not with your skin, and
not with my finger. we ought
to create this picture.
i'd like to etch a canvas
of vast wonders and rolling
hills on the curve of your
shoulder blade and create this
every lasting river that would work
it's way through the buckles
of your spine. i want to draw
these feverish trees
that would outstretch to grasp your own
arms, a companionship. i want to
live in the picture, be warmed
by your warmth. i want to be the
artist and the tenant. i'd
like for you to carry this picture
around under your clothes and bring
it back to me to further explore.
i want to find pieces of you
finding pieces of me and
then our fingertips could create
a different kind of picture,
a mix matched image of each other.
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