Writing by Rue // Photograph by Liat Meir
When I touch you,
It’s like reading a map.
Your skin is your geography,
Your bones the topography,
The slope of your shoulders
Giving way like bluffs into oblivion –
The irregular ribbing of your ribcage
Pressed up against my molehills
Don’t hide, you say.
We’re climbing these mountains together.
Others have made this climb before us,
But today we make new paths
Take out our pencils
Draw new lines on the map,
As I stumble and fall
Over unturned soil
You help me up,
Remind me that it’s okay.
Your hands guide my hands
Showing me the rhythm in my hips.
Telling your version
of Our Story
Nestled in the valley of your chest,
We made high ground today.
And as we came down,
Your fingers laced in mine the whole way,
I felt a shudder overtake me
Little earthquakes in my bones –
Emerging from aftershocks,
I am not alone.
When you hold me that much closer,
For that much longer
I know our lines we drew in the dirt
Will remain when we return tomorrow.