That sliver of skin
At the wrist
At your hip
Where your shirt leaves exposed.
That's where my lips wish to rest,
Where my hands crave to live.
That curve in your neck,
Where my head lays cradled,
As if you were built
Just for my parts to fit in to.
Where pieces of me
Combine with the pieces of you,
Like a puzzle
Or idea
Years in the making.