Flesh never fathomed itself
Into puzzle pieces
Until your jaw rested in the crook of my neck.
Your heartbeat
a lulled, molasses punch from your chest
through
my back
until my heart felt it too.
Your body temperature became my favorite climate.
I’d sacrifice all the perfect posture in the world
to model the shape of us.
Never has a being felt as blessed being landlocked
as I do with your frame around the back of me,
The breeze of your breath at the nape of my neck.
Who needs oceans when you’re in the arms of the holy land?
Marisa McGrath 