I see the beauty of the babies

and the wisdom of the ancients

in the creases of his face.

And when he smiles wholly,

the space between his teeth is deep.

I’ll drop my knees and bow upon his furrowed brow

digging for the secret that the labyrinth in his head keeps.

I’ll worship at his temples

and nestle in the hollows of his cheeks.

I’ll ride the slide of his jawline

to where the pillows of his lips meet.

And there, I’ll sleep

and dream of dancing to his heartbeat.

The rhythm of his blood

the perfect drum

turning this earth to liquid under my feet.

And then I will drip slowly

deep in his belly

coating and soothing like a nectar so sweet.

I’ll let him collect my bones and stack our thighs

like logs around the fire.

We’ll tend to each other

and tell the spirits stories with our sighs,

light the sky with pyres of painted passion

drawing fascination from passerbys.

And we’ll rest our knees like rocks around our feet

And sway in pair and prayer—

A waking dream complete.

© Christine Nihal Kapoor 2016