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.