Let me curl in the shadow of your scapula.
Let me nestle along the trestle of your spine.
Let me burrow in the marrow of your collarbone.
Let me hide under the eve of your jaw line.
And when you laugh
Let me camp in the thatch of your oyster
And let me leak into the open spaces that you keep
Between the vertebrae.
And when you cry
Let me drink the tears from the hollow of your clavicle
And rattle the tin cup of my longing
Along the bars of your ribcage.
Portland, Fall, 2010
Also appears in Psychic Meatloaf Poetry Journal.