Member Poem

His skin was as soft as water, as delicate as eyelashes,

Stretched tight and thin over his bones.

Drawing invisible constellations on his defined cheekbones with her fingertips

Tracing the contours of his thighs

Feeling the grooves like an ocean on his red lips

And she felt the grooves like tectonic plates on his shoulder blades.

Her thick sweater and thick skin concealed her shoulder blades

And dew coated her flowery black eyelashes.

Nothing but round air escaped her barely open lips

As she took in his sharp bones --

Bones which jutted out like cliffs while hers sat undisturbed under thighs

Like sand dunes, and full, well-loved fingertips.

His body, smooth like an icicle except for his fingertips;

Which were rough with tiny ridges like many small shoulder blades

Which rougher every time he tapped them on his thighs

(Three taps for every blink of his eyelashes).

Each tap leaving an irreconcilable indent in his bones

Just like the little dry cracks on both of their lips.

Sometimes cadences would be released for playtime from their lips

But they were always followed closely behind by the sensation of fingertips

Fingertips dragging on bones

Rounded bones content and thick save for his keen shoulder blades,

Inescapably fragile like torn out eyelashes

Left to plant seeds in endless thighs.

Her thighs were wondrous to him -- they were smooth and international thighs

And he adored her.

Oh, he adored her lips:
Where the burgundy color seeped into each small vein and looked beautiful like stained eyelashes

He adored the noise of his cheeks making contact with the ridges of her fingertips

He adored the thickness of her back below her thick sweater and above her shoulder blades

And he adored the thickness of her tough, soft skin sitting on her content bones.

This is what scared her, and what she wouldn’t tell anyone: his bones.

His thighs that were only bone,

His shoulder blades like glass knives,

His gentle voice, cracked like his lips,

His hands, wavering and shaking to the sound of his tapping fingertips,

And the scary sad seeds planted by his wet eyelashes.

He adored her full thighs and laughing lips and formed shoulder blades

But she adored him in a different way

His thighs and lips and shoulder blades were fragile like eyelashes, and like shaky fingertips, and like sad bones,

and so

she adored him, but she was so scared.