These fingers knead your thighs
roused skin, yielding to pressure
I am reminded of rippling lakes, diffuse clouds
of spacetime, physics that humble vanity
Curves and auras, radiation: makings of pliant bones
I am reminded of that Bernini sculpture
How do you keep finding me?
(you would know it if you saw), and oh,
how soft it must’ve become, that lifeless block of marble,
once met with warm hands