the bed.

We slip through the wooden, maple syrup stained doors of my bedroom,
traipsing blindly over the patches of yesterday’s clothes I shed;
seas of rose wine ebb and flow like the tides in our guts
as we collapse poetically on my mattress.
I spot one of my stuffed toys on the sheets
and swiftly launch it across the room.
“What was that?” you ask knowingly, yet in jest.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I deflect.
“What was that?” you press, prying for a confession.
“Some nights, I pretend it’s human,” I explain reluctantly,
my cheeks red like strawberries.
“You won’t need that tonight,” you promise, grinning.
“Obviously,” I mumble.
“Why do you sleep with so many clothes on?” you tease.
“I’m getting there,” I sputter, slowly undressing.
This is my nest; I will not be picked on in my own bed.

My fingertips trace your contour like crayons,
slipping smoothly into every nook,
dipping delicately around every curve, calligraphically,
gliding like warm butter over every leavened drift,
across every subtle protrusion of your stretched canvas,
charting your tapered terrain, graphing your gait,
carefully stenciling your strong and sturdy silhouette,
investigating the borders of your fleshy landscape.
You’re taller than me, and I am thankful.
I knead your thighs like dough.
You reach your arm across the hills of my hips,
and your fingers climb my ribcage and my collarbones with ease,
stopping to thumb the crux of my clavicles,
flicking the knot that is my Adam’s apple
and gingerly grip my neck,
as though you are afraid to fall from such great heights.
We kiss.
You press my back into your chest;
I sit in the chair that is your thighs,
Our legs entangle,
Our palms meet,
Our fingers interlace,
Our bodies intertwine.

I feel your heartbeat, your rhythm;
I try to match it.
I feel your breath on my neck,
the warmth of your body against mine;
we split the heat.
You wrap your arms around me.
Your muscles harden as your grip tightens.
And as I melt into you,
I think to myself:
This is what it must feel like to be human.

“Thank you.”