Ankle bones, elbows,
and knees. The corners
of your geography.
I never think of
loving these rocks
and hard places,
mapping the angular
edges of your body,
never think to polish
these stones with
the palm of my hand. Perhaps
I do not want you
solid, cool as bone:
Your skeleton rises
to meet me. And ankle
bones elbows and knees
pull me inland
to the sea.
