The moment almost drunk of them undressing each other.
I am the watcher of wax and fingers. I am guard of the woman's shape. I am the skin of the bed, stretched over the drum of the bed. I am the soft glass of bed the hot mouth of bed, the stomach of bed,
I am the red envy of clocks and soap.
When my woman returned she brought with her a small boat of man flexing.
The spit and whine of the motors of green bodies, emptying. The hard push of cheek across my back. The man's scream that lingers in my hands.
In the moment of exhale, the weight of sweat peeling off.
How I received them both, trembling asleep over me.
Comments 1
Day 34 for you
To be the sheets of your bed.
The moment
almost drunk of
them undressing
each other.
I am the watcher of wax and fingers.
I am guard of the woman's shape.
I am the skin of the bed, stretched
over the drum
of the bed.
I am the soft glass of bed
the hot mouth of bed,
the stomach of bed,
I am the red envy of clocks and soap.
When my woman
returned
she brought with her
a small boat of man
flexing.
The spit and whine of the motors
of green bodies, emptying.
The hard push
of cheek across my back.
The man's scream
that lingers in my hands.
In the moment of exhale,
the weight of sweat peeling off.
How I received them
both, trembling
asleep
over me.
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