I crack nails on stone to find rich soil
mold clay into flesh
and flesh into place
heat my hands between your thighs
so I can temper skin
into marble

a smooth

I set chisel to bone
and wait for

lean into it
shell cracked, lines split
topology and braille

I never loved you so much as when your imperfections were mine to trace.

One Response to “faultlines”

  1. jc Says:

    Weaver of words…this is really nice, Lucky lady…

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