Intimacy

Lying together,                  

limbs splayed haphazardly about

so that one is indistinguishable from the next

our bodies make a pact

and we exchange pieces of our hearts

so that when I get up to leave

I will carry a piece of you

deep inside of me,

an imprint upon the flesh

deep down when only I can sense it.

Lying here,

my breath falling into a syncopated rhythm

with your own,

and too-still limbs equating themselves as one,

the secret of our bodies lies

quiet just beneath the skin

and I know that I will leave

and things will change,

my arms and legs subtracting themselves from

the living whole,

and one day,

someday,

I will break down as all physical systems eventually decompose,

but this piece of you will remain

an impenetrable fortress of its own;

a constant reminder of

tangled hair and clenched fists

and just how far a body will go to find

belonging.