The Bone

Softly spoken, warm to touch, 

feather light, feel my brush. 

Gently takes your hand and lifts it up.

Draws you near to feel you breathe, 

watches as your chest does heave, 

feels the quickened pulse of life heat up.

Breathes your scent and feels your glow,

presses tight so you will know, 

here I am to share to life with you. 

Stares intent into your soul, 

Shed our youth as we grow old. 

The only things that matter is me and you.