I stare at the God weaved through your body
under the frustrating yellow lights in this room.
It’s 12am and the sun is in the bottom bunk with us
Warming our hands and blessing our bodies
as we do nothing / say nothing because it’s all been said.
You lay down and I sit up and touch you all over again.
The God that resides in you demands to be known
and I want to become a scholar of you /
and the stretch marks on your thighs
read like hieroglyphs which I lovingly touch
to become knowledgeable of.
There is nothing in my way as I move my hands
over the markings on you / there is no
roughness anywhere / no sharp rocks nicking at my palms
and I continue to explore what the sun has
laid out in front of me / an island was never built so perfectly
and I touch the softness of your stomach
and it feels like warmth / it feels so alive
and the midnight sun guides me through you
and you let me continue.
Midnight has never felt so daylight.
I am awake and you are serene.
I want to become fluent in you and
The God in your body agrees.
Let me become / the only one / who knows you like this.
Heidi Miranda is a poet working towards a B.A. in English. She has published poems in both online and in-print journals. She is active on Instagram (@weepingblueberry) where she can be found posting landscape photography and quoting from her favorite poets.