Your back is an the island
whose troubled hills
beckon the exploration of my hands.

As I travel up the hard terrain
I push with the soles
of my thumbs
probing hardened soil
loosening layer by layer
the gravelly consternation
embedded by untold stories
and the flagellations
of your conscience.

A cloud of sadness enters me
as the heel of my hand
steps into your pain.
I feel the delicate cost
of empathy.

Eventually my missionary journey
over the smooth territory of your skin
yields a conversion
of your knotted doubt.

Your purring heart
succumbs to my hard caress
and the awakening between the legs
of this passionate explorer.

09/01/2008

Posted on 09/01/2008
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