Eva

Andrea Bustillo (she/he/they)

Cradle my naked body
like a newborn babe,
tears and giggles as prominent
as birthmarks on skin.

Caress my wrinkles
in old age,
with many stories and many lives etched into my face
like grooves on our favorite records.

Hold me like the one woman who ever has,
the one who patted her lap,
or her shoulder,
or her rounded back
as a pillow for my head to rest.

I hunger for a love as deep as my mother’s,
yet I fear the overwhelming sense
that I can never repay her
and that I can never repay you, either.

Don’t let go of my hand 
as I cross the street
or as we clumsily dance
under dim lights and grainy music.

Tighten your fingers around mine,
hold steady,
and keep me from drifting 
into the riptides.

Please let me come home to you.