This is not a poem.
This is a map of you:
loving, warm and gentle;
burned hips waiting
to be cooled by my wetness.
It is a map of you
(on a hot blueberry afternoon)
splash of colors on dirty scraps of paper
"What are the letters made of?"
"Bones against clay"
This was a map of you
loving, warm and gentle,
on wet sand.
A few memory lines got erased by the tide.
Insoluble, essential minerals are what remain
This is an answer to this prompt.
I used the titles provided by : a~lotus, linda, gautami, deb, eden and sister AE ...
Don't know about the poem -but I did have fun...