I Have Memorized Your Body

I was asked how I will recognize 

you in the middle of a crowd, 

and I went ahead to say, 

“even if I was blindfolded, I’d know you”!

Even if I was deaf, I would smell you. 

Even if I couldn’t hear, I can sense you.

You often ask me “why do you 

like to touch my face; 

I love it but why do you”? 

I study your jawline, 

I can tell your crafting from 

the way I touch you. 

I know your cheekbones and 

how they form, your contours 

are strong and I can sense 

your nose bridge from the way you breathe.

Your forehead isn’t like mine. 

It has tiny hair and your beards; 

I can tell the texture and the scent. 

Your earbones, they are used to me. 

They breathe in my hands, 

just like your jawline settles in my arms.

Your eyebrows; thick. 

I am a sucker for all you are. 

Yes I know you. 

I can tell you from the crowd, 

I can seperate you from the noise; 

I know your body so well, 

I can tell your scent, 

I can sense your move and 

I can feel your actions.

The flesh on your neck 

settles in my arms; my 

palms are familiar with 

your nerves as your veins 

obey my touch. I know you.

Your tongue is equally interested in me. 

Your lips are used to sucking me in, 

fitting me between your teeth; 

your soul loves me. 

Your body acknowledges me.

Your shoulders, you talk about 

how perfect they could be, 

I think they are more than 

perfect for me to lean. 

I can tell the distance from 

your neck to your shoulders, 

I know you that well. 

Your tongue is one of my favorite, 

I like being caught there.

Your chest, the muscles of 

your breast, your heart; 

they know my hand. 

They are eager to let me lie. 

It’s like greener pastures,

it restores my soul.

Your ribs; the place where I belong. 

I fit. Your bones are perfect, 

I can count them. 

Your skin, they draw me in. 

Your sweat and water, 

they touch base with mine. 

They make moments count. 

Of course, I know you. 

Your body knows mine

I know you! I know your waistline, 

it does a great job keeping the pants on, 

but I like it better when the pants are off. 

I see through it,; the work it does, 

the reason for being, all it involves.

I know you, I’ve read from the 

thickness of your hair, 

to the color of your eyes, 

bridge of your nose, 

shape of your head, 

texture of your lips, 

the pulse from your veins, 

the tenderness of your shoulders, 

even to the veins and 

pulse of your inner thighs. 

I am familiar with all of your organs. 

I can tell your natural scent; 

with or without a bath. 

I know your grip, I know how 

you sound when you receive. 

I know you!

I know your inner thighs; 

how firm they grip. 

Your knees, they are good for many things. 

When I rest my head on your laps, 

I can feel the blood and 

how they get around.

Your legs? They tempt me. 

Almost my favorite feature. 

Blessed and created to step into territories. 

I can hear your feet, I can tell your moves, 

I can feel your stumps and I can with it, 

measure your distance. 

I know you from the crowd. 

I would pick you and I wouldn’t miss. 

I have counted the lines on your palms, 

I can trace them with my eyes shut. 

I can tell your thumb from a grip, 

and even your nails by the length of it. 

Even your knuckles are 

not void of me, they fold like 

they are laughing when 

my hand touches yours.

The hair in your body stands, 

I know your flesh; the goosebump is felt. 

Your skin, it submits to my being. 

Your ears and skin rises at the

mention of my name, and that’s not a sin