Tracing Constellations by Nicole Barth [1/30/14]

You followed the cosmos of my skin,
as your index finger traced a circle around
the beauty mark on my left clavicle.

Here I am,
I thought, as you paused mid-orbit.

I will always be the topographical map of chapped lips,
the number of ribs you wrapped your arms around,
and the constellations beneath your touch.






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