My love’s strong chest, feels to me
a meadow
when I lay down beside him,
when my cheek rests on that firm terrain,
a chest square and hard,
and the tickle of hairs, a soft grass
starting from his neck down to his navel,
trailing even lower,
also a few spirals circle his nipples.
The power of this hair: My heart swells and splits.
That wonderful hair, the source of his energy.
Each curled strand lines up into a chain
of strands and passes its excitement one to the other right into my skin,
right into me.
Against this joy I lay and go slack
as a deer looking up
and seeing no danger, returns to
Her quiet nibbling.
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