Unmapped
I like taking road trips.
Your mountain ranges call to me—
peaks rise and fall with your energy.
I trace the map lines with my eyes,
blue as spring waters.
I follow them with my finger,
in and out of the valleys
of your shoulders.
My breath escapes me!
I trek through every contour—
wandering the ridges:
collarbones, cheeks, chest—
until I arrive where I began:
gazing at the immaculate view of you.
Submitted: February 24, 2025
© Copyright 2025 Betty Caprelli. All rights reserved.
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