I trace the letters of your name
slowly across your back
as if my fingertips
could turn every curve
into something permanent

I write you there without ink
without a needle
yet somehow
you become etched into me
each letter feels like a story
a quiet novel
whispered through touch
and when my hand
reaches the last one
I don’t want to stop
because your name is no longer
something I can simply write
it is something I carry
beneath my skin
something my heart
has memorized
something I could trace
with my eyes closed
and when you shiver
beneath my hand
I swear the letters sink deeper
until I can no longer tell
where your skin ends
and I begin

because I wasn’t really
writing your name on you
I was writing you
into me
and some things
once written that deeply
are never meant
to be erased