“I scour your anatomy…”

125I scour your anatomy
for signs of my impact, there
I think I see
the curve of my breast
in the dark combe
of your belly
and is that my cheekbone
wedged between your ribs?
the lines into which my lipstick fades
are a surrealistic abstract across your neck
and the lash that floated free
when you kissed my eyes
has found a home in your collarbone
look, how the whorls of my thighs
finger-paint your hips
I scour your anatomy
with eyes that have never seen
my impact,
on your mind

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