by Linda Dominique Grosvenor
a treaty my body made with your hands
to give pleasures, to touch, subdue
wandering the contours of softly shaven me
the warmth it exudes does exist, as we
dispute the rumor of the loveless earth.
familiarity and tenderness, affection overdue
more than i could have imagined,
you are a reward for my patience
as you create in me, love, art and poetry.