Divine Shoulders

Her heaven was the crevice 

Between his shoulders, 

Whenever he would hold her. 

She could sit there for millenia

Beneath the patterned brow

And ruminate how 

seamlessly she fit

She didn't have to bend, contort and twist

Her frame

Or follow a script 

Truth be told, 

She'd never had the stomach for love

Its bloody guts and grimy parts

Left a sticky residue all over her heart 

But if she tried, she might've recognized 

The sweetness in the air as bliss

The warmth in his arms as home