That graceful arch that sits above the heart..

A gentle hollow, where secrets might alight,
That lies between the throat and afternoon.
It is the first bright promise of the chest,
A slender line that puts the heart to test.

A shelf for light, a perch for weary heads,
The path where wandering fingertips are led.
It bridges the vast chasm between us two,
A fragile arch, both strong and new.

Beneath its curve, the breath begins to rise,
A silent tide within a soft disguise.
It is the frame for all the words you'll speak,
The foundation of the body's mystique.

So let my lips trace that delicate line,
The sweetest geography, so divine.
From shoulder's slope to the neck's tender grace,
The quiet pulse I long to trace.