belonging

I want to be a boat in your waters,
set free to sail.

I want to be the laughter on your tongue.
I want every moment you touch me
to leave a mark, tattooing your kisses
on my stomach
on my hipshandsfeet, backs of knees.

But what I get are
mud and quicksand— 
I cannot sail freely.
I imagine only the taste of loneliness in your mouth,
and see empty skin,
an unpainted canvas
stretched over a body
controlled by my mind but belonging to you. 

but belonging to you is what makes me beautiful,
full of possibility.
hope fills the sails of my little boat
and pushes me forward,
through doubt’s hurricane
and past uncertainty’s siren call.
devastation’s swiftest currents are no match,
not for the straight course
your firm and steady hands
set for me, for us,
two painters filling up the other’s empty canvas
and the future calling,
the future calling louder than any of the waves that crash on our shore.