I want to explore you.
I want to conquer your body the way climbers conquer Everest.
I want to taste the crevice where your arm meets your shoulder,
Run my hands through the valleys of your stomach,
Your hips guiding them down like signposts that say, “touch me.”
I’d spend days touching you, if I could.
Memorizing every scar,
Tracing the pathways of your muscles like trails on a map,
While my head finds a place on your chest.
Your heartbeat echoing through my ears like the soft rumble of train cars,
Being sorted in the switch yard at night.
Night is my favorite time of day,
And your eyes remind me of moonlight.
Your hands mirror the sky,
Scars forming constellations,
Kissed by callused stars
and diesel stained comets.
You apologize for their grit,
But I’m in love with the way they feel on my skin,
With the contrast between their texture,
And how softly you can touch me.
I’m reminded of how things aren’t always what they seem.
How sometimes we look rough and broken,
But are so capable of love.
So capable of being loved.