Muscles move before me
Beneath tan, freckled landscape.
I trace a single finger over the hills and valleys
Wonder on the days and weeks and months
Years
This shoulder spent bathed in sunlight
Warmed yet still lonely
Awaiting this touch.
Shoulder.
Muscles move before me
Beneath tan, freckled landscape.
I trace a single finger over the hills and valleys
Wonder on the days and weeks and months
Years
This shoulder spent bathed in sunlight
Warmed yet still lonely
Awaiting this touch.
by Julie Blue 