Steady

Slowly, he recalls his steady hands.
Soft and freckled, both of mine could fit comfortably into his one.
Tracing me, he drags his warm hands across the landscape of my body
carefully walking his fingertips over the surface of my skin.
Exploring each curve, he swallows me in the breadth of his palms.
Eyes closed, I ask

If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would it be?

In my mind, I envision
The countrysides of Spain,
the canals of Venice,
and the coves of California.
I absorb myself in his response and am surprised to find
my insides twisted into subtle knots.

Here

he says plainly,
and I'm sure he's been mistaken.
A trick on the ears, on his part or mine.
I choose not to question however,
and quickly lose myself in the shape
that his body makes.