347//365 / by Rebecca Tillett




My fingers follow the roads and highways of your back,
reading it like a map
Every mole and freckle, a rest stop
On my way to the scenic bridge of your neck,
An overpass with breathtaking views
Breaking there to get my bearings
To will the flashing of my life
Before my fingers’ eyes Jump, jump, fly
and I find them alive on the rugged trail of your jawline
tip-toeing through rough terrain
The land moves easily here
And my fingers sway in alliance
As they travel north and linger
On the rim of the hollow of your eye
The universe