(no subject)

[dear__aurora]

I never unfold my arms
swept beneath worn orientals
that fray and bleed every hue.
I lie there: a placid body
an addict seething hunger.

I never wrap my ribs
among the leaves that scrape
along the pavement. You bury
your hands in pockets
while I fade evenly
from polaroids in black and white
and sepia tones.

I never release my hands
though they sift and seep
like a sieve, from
failing sunsets. You rest slow
slow among my veins, dear.