writing tremble destinies
every
next line is a please
do
what eases your eyes
out
of comfort and
into
their own
dark
throne of humanity
with its endless sea of smells
I
am remembering to map
all
the places your lips
have
undressed me with
each
little kiss
each
seeded brittle hope
turning
to climb into bliss
turning
to till-billow drum
my
rib cage heaves
finding
my silhouette wading
the
torn fabric sky inside
every
way you finger-tine lightning
to
quill the poems onto my skin
words
become moans
searching
for an open window
and
all that my surrender
releases
when you unfold
my
soul’s creases
like
wet wings
waiting
to dry
as
you whisper
here
I am
wanting
you
EJR
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