Your face,
Soft beneath my rough hands,
Made gentle by the reverence
With which I touch you,
Yet I see you
As you are,
How pieces of you
Coaxed forth,
Contradictions,
Dichotomies,
Ferocity of surrender
A set of expressions,
Only I know,
Attention paid
Is its own reward,
I keep your secret self,
Close to my skin
Stainless steel through flesh,
And I call you forth,
Whenever you think
Of
Me
MB Blissett 