JULY

[twiggygrl]

I say, fuck the chaste things
the promises we keep to ourselves
slowly, cautiously, not without love
the spidering fingers
the tangle of breath
the face pressed into the cave of the hips
a split-stop moment of our bodies unspecifics
dressed only in the salty slip of july
each hair standing at attention as
each blade of grass falls to cushion
today our lips are the timestamp of loneliness
the secrets held in sweaty knee pits
and the promise of tomorrows bruises
Always, Always,
betrayed only to ourselves
by the stain of dirty elbows.