I want the inches of your skin that tell the story of my love for you,
Rhythms of the old and new,
Outlining the black and blue.
I want the inches of your skin,
That deep encumbered intimacy,
So perfectly entwined with me.
I want the inches of your skin thats flawed,
With freckles, scars and marks,
The secret passage hidden parts,
That guide me straight into your heart.
I want the inches of your skin that only my eyes navigate the corners,
Pioneering my explorer,
Learning you from every angle,
Spinning circles, lost in tangles.
I want the inches of your skin that florescent lighting kills its models,
Exposing truth and lies that gobble,
Lighting pathways within our souls,
To make each other's bodies home.
I want the inches of your skin connecting lines of imperfections,
Enfolding every vacant section,
Marked reserved for something holy,
Sealed with vows and matrimony.
I want the inches of your skin,
Every essence, every breath.
For you, my love, are all that you are so wonderfully created,
So gloriously breathtaking-
Every inch of you, well made for me,
Making history- with the inches of you.
