Nicole climbs a different sort of hill.
What an exhausting thing it has become;
being held captive inside your darkest thoughts.
Rocking back and forth, massaging the balls
of my feet on each step up your spine,
wiggling my toes, pushing into
the sweet center of every weakening vertebrae.
It is a tricky climb, your backbone,
steep and full of hidden twists,
but the bend of it beneath my weight
is so beautiful I pause and consider
resting for a moment, right there,
in the hollow of your pride.
I could stretch my limbs and close my eyes,
lulled to sleep upon the echoes
of your deep growls and the rhythmic sway
of your need to release me
from all the places I will never leave.
© Nicole Lyons 2017