14 January 2011


now i imagine us, restrained
after mends street, rivers edge
that clean, sweat goddess
my showered stubble at yr nape
fructose touches between thighs
residing, setting up leather camp
inside you, the searing back
as if made of fingers and mirrors
body built like fabric ice on nipple
our tongues on the skin-hills of you
a wave of wet coffee time behind us
the wake of yr hot vodka blood
a scream of streets, sheets, breezes
the blush dawning traffic
then sleep

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