Skin

I watch,
I touch,
and I understand.
I taste stress in your sweat,
tension stretched on the surface,
so visible
in the landscape of your
back.
I feel
knots in your muscles,
like pearls under
satin.
I'll untie the ropes
and kiss the blank
red ribbons
of your broad brow
and I'll write
you letters
on my chest,
things like silver lies
and soft secrets,
and wires of frigid truth
because the truth is
my very
skin
demands you.
so kiss me back,
strike a pose,
be a body
and let our bodies
juxtapose like slow jazz
and your fragile ears.
take a deep breath
of me and
exhale yourself
as you tell your
aching body
that I miss it too