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