You dissolve me,

gently dismember me.

My legs exist

only for yours;

my arms lost to searching

only your peaks and hollows.

I am translated

to mere points of contact;

no shape, no form,

like warm air upon air;

a fleshly current

tugging and ebbing

like water against sand,

stirring then smoothing.

I feed on your breath,

graze upon your lips,

to eventually collide

in purposeful abandon.

Then I must lay there

in scattered patience,

’til I am put back together;

my flesh poured back,

and I resemble me again.


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