My Little Inkling

I like to touch your tattoos in complete darkness,
when I can’t see them.
I’m sure of where they are,
know by heart the neat lines of lightning pulsing
just above your nipple, can find,
as if by instinct, the blue swirls of water on your
shoulder where a serpent twists, facing a dragon.
When I pull you to me,
taking you until we’re spent and quiet on the sheets,
I love to kiss the pictures in your skin.
They’ll last until you’re seared to ashes;
whatever persists or turns to pain between us,
they will still be there.
Such permanence is terrifying.
So I touch them in the dark; but touch them, trying.

First Poem For You

Kim Addonizio

(via musingsofpoetry)

(Source: )

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