Loving you unfurls like cream cheese spread. Like marmalade on the dark toast with the seed-dotted crust. It’s pen clicks and the profiles of our faces. I love how we can lay together like puzzle pieces. we drew in the silt. There was never a full picture– never a full puzzle for us to fall into. We make our own illustration from warmth and quiet breath. I wrote a map for us this morning between our clasped hands. I don’t know where it goes but I know it’s in the oscillating distance of our orbits. Call me Despina and I’ll call you Neptune. I’m sorry about the constellations I’ve found in you– but only because I never wrote them down. You wear Orion’s belt like a crown. I write you poems as a cartographer. Let’s build a mountain range upside down in the ocean. Right on the fault line. We can leave hand prints in the magma and tell Triton we’ll put everything back where we found it.