Love in the time of global warming

Sense

If I lost my sense of sight I could still feel you

The thicket of hair
The big soft eyebrows
The lines of your smile
Sweet feral teeth

The lips I can suck
The ridge of collarbone
The mass of bicep
Strained veins on forearms

The defended chest
The narrow hips
The motorcycle thighs
Black leather boots

If I lost my sense of smell I could bury my face in your neck and armpit and lap and
remember
The musk sweat and salt

If I lost my hearing
I could press my head to your heart and feel the pagan drum circle in your chest
I could press my heart to our veins
And feel the symphonic swirl of your blood

If I couldn’t taste you I would have meat and rock salt dandelion greens and red
wine

If couldn’t touch you I would look and listen and smell and taste and dream

You see, I’ve known you before. A long time ago.
And I’ve been sense-less a long time since

You say you need to wait and see
Who I am
But I already know
You with every one of my imperfect six