curve: on the climax of a thin sheet of paper

complete, finished
I pause to feel the curve of you under my knuckles
curling in to guard what I have given you,
what we have shared.

in private I would bring you to my cheek,
where I bring all things that I love,
but the breeze is cool and I am hot under these lights;
bravely exposed in our impenetrable togetherness,
we are shielded behind cardboard and glass.

and though my hand aches and my tense mouth twitches
I am not ready to leave –
there is yet another curve in you,
and I intend to savour it.

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