Mood Magazine

I gave my body to someone

and it didn’t leave an empty pit in my stomach

for the first time

I felt at home

in my body

entangled in yours

when you looked at my body

and told me I was beautiful

for a second

I believed it myself

happiness is a language that still feels

foreign on my tongue

and I find it again and again

in the softness of your lips

Your back is to me,

but I know you’re there.

The backdoor let you in,

it’s lock falls weak to a familiar wind.

The last time you ever knocked,

I told you that you didn’t need an invitation.

You haven’t asked for once since.

But what if this space is only big enough for me?

I ask as I check that my window

is still saving me from this cold.

And I remember,

this space is still mine.

I do not wish to catch your spirit.

I am not sorry that it

seeps from bedrooms into sheets,

from showers into drains,

that the only way out for you is down.

But I was fine before you knocked.

And as you dig canals into my back

with your shoulder blades

I try to remember the feeling I had

Before you reminded me

I never saw you out.

There you are, captivating and serene.

True beauty is like a large puzzle, and now

I know I’ve found pieces of it.

The light of the city reflecting from your window

Onto the candied curves of your backbone,

Benign to you yet so potent to my body.

Your soft edges are crisp like

Night and day against the light.

I am drawn to touch you,

I want to feel your heart beating against my bare skin. 

I want to outline every inch of you

Like I’m studying to draw you from memory.

Your whole being is in perfect harmony.

Your eyes, bottomless like the depths of the soothing sea.

Your skin, soft like the rain on a Sunday morning.

Gently I kiss

The nape of your neck with my warm breath.

A deep wave erupts throughout your body, and

Goosebumps flourish under your tender skin.