Come touch me.

Wrap your arm around me and let's go to bed, with your head resting on my chest. Let me rub my fingers through your hair, lifting up the scent of your pomade. Wrap your leg around mine, let your hand wander down to my belly, rub it for luck for fun for comfort.

Push me onto my side, snuggle behind me, kiss the back of my neck, let me feel your breath puffing down my shoulders. Wrap your arm around my chest and secure me-protect me from the world right now and keep me locked inside your embrace. Press yourself against my ass cheeks, settle between them, and let me feel your partial rise. Mold your legs behind mine and force me fetal.

When I sit down, stand behind me, nibble my ear, make me forget I'm writing, make me forget my ideas. You're invited to interrupt the sentence that grew from the jealousy I felt when I biked past four hot sexy muscled men-and then from the victory I felt when I saw their foreheads were etched with lines given by the sun-as mine remains flawless. Remind me that you like me, even if they saw a blob of Jell-O; remind me that it's your food that makes me the shape the form the what the who I am.

Distract me when we're driving on vacant roads by putting your finger up my nose, staring away as if unrelated to your body. Look at me slyly, unzip yourself and show me your current state, tempt me to change it. Make me stop faster than a jamboree of deer arcing across the road.

When nothing in my day has gone right, when thoughts of jumping in front of the train flood my mind, when work sucks and humans are animals and mirrors should be outlawed, when no one dies who should and no one lives who should, let us lie down, let me press my head into your chest, wrap both your arms around me and erase me. Become mathematical; negate me, absolute value me, x me for every y me, protract me, encompass me.

Come touch me.