Untitled

How my back
that dry rift above my scapula
aches to be enwombed

I have a sense of you
the sum of your parts
cradling hands
with spring in your veins

The bend at your knee
tendon line climbing over your crouched form
the slight swell of your forearm
hovering above that pale spot

How can this be so clear
palpable
with your face every before me
yet unrecognizable