Join me in this act

of marrow-making, spinning songs

from print to eye to mind:

Darling, you are welcome

to make yourself

a nest, pallet, place to rest

between my breasts-

nothing fancy, only feathers

pinioned to puckered skin.

There you are, snuggle in;

match up our heartbeats.

And so

we inhale - exhale, on repeat until

we don't need to anymore.

These lines are how

I hold you; feel it?

This is how you are

beloved,

held.