Those eyes are my own personal sea;

blue and briny water compressing around me,

calming my worries while calling me in deeper.

But I am not afraid, not of these eyes,

not of these oceans.

For I am not afraid to drown in them,

not afraid of letting the water fill my lungs.

Because I know I will see these eyes again in my next life.

Whatever comes thereafter.

 

Those hands are my mountains.

Lifting me higher than ever, until the thinning air makes

my head spin.

A single-fingered stroke across the expanse of my thigh is all

it would take for my desire to climb the

summit becomes unbearable.

Like my seas, I am not afraid to give in.

No, not these mountains—I won’t anticipate the fall.

 

That back is my sky;

broad and mighty,

there for me to reach for,

grazing my fingers along its clouds.

 

Gracious, and those lips,

my favorite rose.

They’re the endlessness of the Cosmos

that tempt you

and envelop you like nothing before.

Addictive, and explosive like the death of a star.

 

The brown locks are my personal favorites.

They’re my own galaxy filaments I get to pull at as if I were responsible for it all; his Maker Divine.

Silky and thick, I’ll tug and caress, carrying him into a

slumber where he’ll dream of my face and the taste of my lips.

 

The anatomy of my lover is simple,

though perhaps it not be so after prudent consideration.

He is my Universe.

Where his eyes are both my waters and my stars,

his palms are my forests and temple to be lost in,

his neck my Great Wall for scattered kisses.

Like bare feet on Terra firma is my head

on his chest.

Like hearing the Earth’s breath and the thump of its life.

 

Inside me, we are one.

There, I lose myself.

I’ll admit, I become vulnerable,

but is this not inevitable?

For inside me, we are souls inseparable.

I am his,

pridefully so.

Willingly do I surrender,

entangled in our nakedness,

fearless,

at the mercy of each other’s hearts.

Soon, his face will find my unveiled breasts, and there

he’ll lie,

with dreams of tender whispers.

 

In the darkest of nights and brightest days, I’ll surrender.

 

Surrender

 

to the anatomy of my lover.

 

Until there is nothing again.

Stillness—no shapes or forms, gases or planets, matter or energy.

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— A.M. Sención

2021