The Mapping Out of Love.
I follow the map of your body,
Tracing its hills and valleys
With my love-thirsty index finger:
The fleshy, naive wanderer
In search of truth and beauty
On this fleeting, faulted earth.
But in all its years of wayward travel,
Never did it find such phantom treasures.
And the hope and wonder in its flesh
Began to fade,
Like the ink once used to draw
The very first maps of this earth:
Now worn down by life, forgotten by man.
Until it touched your cool terrain.
Until it crossed your love-drenched plains.
And suddenly, all the beauty of the world
Was fused into this ancient flesh of mine
And the treasures I found
Flourishing across your landscape.
Written 5.20.10 @ 11:06 PM and 5.27.10 @ 10:50 AM