Inked arms
curling like
incense smoke
around
my heart.
I pray in kind.
He traces
his map
on my skin
where he had
been
dark places
and lost
and how he
only had
a candle –
all this
he draws
onto me
as I breathe
his spiced smoke
and take all of him in
– all
until the prayer
is answered
and I read
his tale
over and over
inked
on my skin.
Inky Cat's Poems 