Intimacy
By Jenna Szymanski
Secrets slowly undress me,
Each expression unravels my red, silk blouse.
Your full lips whisper delicate dreams
Against the curve of my neck.
I inhale your words,
And use them as oxygen.
Your hand caresses my pale, white cheek,
Melting the icy casing of my soul,
Drawing me into you.
As our foreheads touch,
I feel your wounds surfacing.
I trace your jaw with my fingertips,
And tell you stories
Of when I danced with ghosts.
I tell you how their iridescent shapes consumed me.
My secrets slithered beneath
Your royal blue pullover sweater, lifting it up.
We are exposed.
And though we stand face to face
Fully clothed, we are completely
Naked.