l'hymne a l'amour

today, while i was bathing, i thought about what it would be like to have your hands stroking my body. i thought about what your hands would do on such unfamiliar territory. what your hands would tell you.

i wanted to come and meet you tonight. really, i did. i wanted to show up, dressed in plain clothing, not trying to be anything in particular. i would tell you that i want to come home with you tonight. i want to stay in your bed. i would kiss you. i would kiss you without preparation. without asking or warning or testing the waters.

i thought about what you would see. i thought about the scars and birthmarks and oddities that other people have mapped but never understood. your hands would glaze over my newest needle mark bruise (i have never had steady hands) and you would ask me what it was. i would tell you.

i would ask you how you felt about blood and, in the light of the night, somehow find a towel in the hall closet. i would lay it across your bed, ensuring that we could make a mess with no consequences. we would laugh, making fun of the imprints that the towel fibers made on our asses, backs, knees, elbows... as the night went on.

in the early morning we would be giddy. our eyes would cry with laughter as we realized how ridiculous and beautiful our bodies looked there. together.

today, while i was bathing, i thought about how the doubts would slip away if you were there with me. naked.