belonging

When you caress the hollow

between my shoulder blades

with your tongue,

I feel the hairs leap from my arms,

breasts stand at attention,

taut and reaching,

longing to be touched.

Your breath on my skin

softly whispering,

yes and again, yes

slipping from your mouth,

soothing susurrations

like water wending its way

through crevices and over rocks.

And I come to understand

that no matter what we’ve lost,

or how disquiet trickles

into the tapestry of our bones,

at this moment,

our intertwining limbs

knit like scar tissue

into a fabric that won’t tear.