Making Maps (Awakino Heads)

I want to measure plumb lines
& to chart new continents;
the contours and curvatures of skin
Draw new pleasures onto pliant canvasses;
to dream a little more
To put every fluid ounce of me into the ink which colours the topography of you
Stencilled in pale pinks, mauve, sizzling reds & penitent purples
To have at the command of my fingertips—an empire:
Your bluffs; crevasses, major highways, and roads that lead me onward, imploring;
I want to find flash-flooded rivers that make your tremulous heart race
Find dank doorways in your industrial estates,
luxuriate in long, languid rambles
across the Nape of your neck
To press my face into windowless shops
and to inhale the fragrance that lingers
& to come and know, the splendours of cartography.