The central indentation in the collar bone
You know the place,
Right at the centre of the collar bones,
where neck becomes chest.
That’s it, that hollow.
The name is all wrong.
I want to find a word
less edged and osseous,
one that nods to
scented skin, the pulse beneath.
I want a better word, too,
for the sound she makes each time I kiss there,
the one that washes like a wave
across her barely parted lips.
Not sigh,
not whimper or gasp;
It bothers me, this
nameless exhalation.
I need names
to mark territories:
without, I lack the means
to navigate to our
comfortable hollow
and sail in circles,
for fear of breaking
on hard reefs
of bone.
Part of the Anatomy project