Bodies in Rest and Motion

I have always loved the first time

With a new lover

That sense of adventure

Of discovery

To experience their skin for the first time

To gaze at them unclothed, vulnerable

Can take my breath away

The lining up of the curves and edges

The exploration of how our bodies

Might fit together

Is a topic of endless

Fascination to me.

I have always loved

To run my hands unhurriedly

Over a new lover’s

Uncharted topography

Inquiring about scars and tattoos

Lazily connecting

Constellations of freckles

With a trailing finger

To see what shapes emerge

Gathering the history of a

Their body.

I listen attentively to

The sounds they make when

I find that ticklish spot

Or that exquisitely sensitive area

That gives touch a sense of urgency

Tucking this privileged information away

In my heart and in my muscle memory

To draw upon it again

At some future time.

Over the years

I have had the chance to

To press my naked skin

And at times my soul

Against lanky bodies

Short bodies

Smooth bodies

Hairy bodies

Gentle curves

Generous curves

Muscle, subtle

And at times bulging.

I have run my hands over

Skin taut with youth

The flush delicate and pink

And in more recent years

Have tangled my fingers

In salt and pepper chest hair

Memorizing laugh lines

Learning with my hands and mouth

How the passing of time

And gathering of experience

Both softens someone’s edges

While simultaneously revealing

Something lean and authentic

And essential

I have entwined my fingers

With many hands since

My first tentative

Steps into my own sensuality

I have known calluses

Smooth, unlined hands

Delicate hands

Feminine hands

Masculine hands

And have developed

A strong preference for

Short fingernails.

I have never really had a “type”

But instead

An unceasing curiosity

About how my body

And my lover’s body

Are alike and different

I like the lights on

Have always wanted to see

How my touch, the feel of my breath

Against their skin

Changes a lover’s expression

Observe whether

The lover in my bed

Is someone who holds tight to control

Or luxuriates like a hedonistic cat

Or is able to let go with abandon

Losing themselves to the moment.

I love eye contact and

The joining of mouths

I have always been told

That I am a very good kisser

Which I must admit

I take a disproportionate

Amount of pride in

My first kiss at tender 14

Was a ridiculous

But memorable affair

As my back cramped up

And I actually fell off a picnic bench

It has always made a good story

I have greatly improved

Both my confidence and skill.

I have also always

Loved the “after”

With a lover

Both of us warm and damp

Relaxed, our bodies heavy

Many points of contact

Limbs entwined

A head resting against

A broad shoulder

Or perhaps on an arm

Embraced like spoons

An emotional intimacy

A sense of “knowing”

That did not exist before

Now created and held delicately

Between us

The bed now a sanctuary while

The rest of the world still

Feels far away, remote

Like this moment is all there is

And could be infinite.

Categories: Poetry

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