He comes into me first and I like his decisions,
dominant lover. Perhaps I should be more daring,
but he knows what he’s doing.
Don’t focus on your legs, but your chest. You’ll see.
To stand tall and feel your heart thunder -
that is the key to love.
My favorite part of him is his tummy - it’s always so warm
and I can feel his heart beating against my hand
when I lay my hand across it. His flat contours,
his definition cut muscular, his snake of soft hair lining down.
His body is strong and slender and he stands tall,
whilst I am small in comparison. But I fit. I can nest
in his arms and be cushioned into sleep on the soft
warm mound over his booming heart.
He has a good heart. His engine. It powers him.
I like listening to his pulse, sounding every second,
his life rhythm like our love embodied. I like it when it races.
I like it when our breath forms one breath and
our two hearts are together, beating through our bellies,
when his shoulders ripple as he kneels, praying on my hips.