the new world


sleep comes late when the night is young

but dawn breaks all too soon: over bodies

young and fresh, skin cracking with growth

and the weight of what we get away with


day's heat is no reprieve from the restless

tumble of thoughts that accompany a lover

leaving for the world beyond your front door:

a line drawn in the sand that you can't jump back across


the bed shook with a heartbeat; thrumming

through our ears and out of everything

and nothing had ever rung so true

as the sort of harmony i only heard in you


i map your body like a new world, making

mountains of your hands, tracing blue veins

like rivers crossing the flatlands of your arms

treading on that hallowed ground only the natives knew before


new scars network together, like cities in the desert

raising freckles where the highways intersect

and dip into the canyon of your neck, somewhere

where gods are born and are baptized anew


a new world; and one i've discovered that

gets more beautiful with every day