Our Geography

You have the ability to devastate,
it's not your fault
that made my soul quake

No, it was the fissure
at the nape of my spine
that let you in,
a delicate tear
at the hem of my skirt,
causing your eyes to unearth
the simple fabric
covering me

I allowed you to wander
the golden valley of my thighs,
the indigenous regions
only known to lovers,
as if they were home
to your strange, beautiful hands

It's this line
that devastates,
when crossed