By: A. J. Frantz
I could cup your face in my hands
study each blemish
each crater
gray on white on gray
as I inhale your dust and history
and exhale all of my worries.
I know you have scars
where man cut you down,
raised his flag
and his ego,
but I would show you what it means
to be loved. To feel my fingers dance
across your cheek.
I could.
A. J. Frantz is from Detroit, MI and currently studies urban sustainability at Oberlin College. Their work has appeared in Touchstone, The Utican, and more.