The room is dark now,
save for the thin dragonfly-wings the outside streetlamp paints across your back,
swelling and stretching with each breath you take.
...
My Kingdom, My Empire
The room is dark now,
save for the thin dragonfly-wings the outside streetlamp paints across your back,
swelling and stretching with each breath you take.
The crag of your spine casts a shadow on the valleys below it,
rippling like stitches between your shoulder blades
before it is submerged, lost in the waters of your skin.
I have mapped the planes of your body,
know every blue veined road and tendon bridge,
have walked my fingers through the forest of your hair
and let my heart make its home there.