Architecture of the Body

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General Love

My back arched

Like a bridge

From my South

And you,

My True North.



His hands steepled

Above my head

Like a home

I never wished

To leave.



His body framed

Around my own

So perfectly;

He was the molding

On my decaying cabin.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

Inspired by: “When most people looked at me, they only saw a certain collection of bones. But he saw past the mouth and the eyes, the architecture of the body, my fleshy masquerade. Other boys were happy enough to enjoy the show, they just wanted to be entertained in the body’s shadow theater. But he had to come backstage.” Paint it Black, by Janet Fitch

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J-C4113D's picture

Beautiful use of metaphor!


J-Called