Love like Foreign Lands VII (for Babak)

Love Like Foreign Lands –VII


I plan to write the atlas to your soul,
become so scientific with the method of discovery,
I want to dwell deep within and learn every inch....
bone,
curve,
scrape,
bump,
scratch,
bruise,
and
mole,
the birthmarks,
that maps your body,
I'll study your lips, kiss them to measure the softness,
bite them slightly to see how full and thick they are,
run my tongue around the outline to take note of the borders,
suck them to get their natural flavor,


hmmmm...


and in my memory, I'll write that each touch of them
each brush and press of them against my lips,
taste like the air on a warm spring day.
and in your eyes, I see the sun,
infinite possibilities of happiness
some secrets of what we plan to build, hopes of future will.
while in your eyes, I'll see the son,
roots embedded deep in fertile soil
encourage the build of a stable family tree,
and seeds that live inside our lap,
the evidence of a evolution, the evidence of a simple caress.
so I'll study your touch, as you imprint yourself into me,
your body temperature perfect, brings warmth to my cold flesh,
the pressure of a hug, anxiously closer to you I pull,
wanting each cell of my skin
to find a perfect mate to kiss
among each cell of your skin.
close my eyes and breathe slightly,
I want you to sink and rise inside me.
as the urge to have us infused and bind,
we conquer the ability to share space and time,
and I will chart and graph each event,
all the kisses, touches, whispers,
precise and accurate, treat each year's new resolution
as the reason to devote every day
into re-surveying the area of your body,
learning of your aura, as if it was the first time again