December 14, 2011
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My breath sleeps best on the curve
of your lip
and quickens at your shy eye.
Bring your bones to my bed
and rest your head.

Tonight, the smoke clears
In this cube of night called “room”
Air drops heavy on bedsheets,
bed spreads, and lead heads

We, the night blinded
Find refuge in wrapped arms
And limp eyelids

Pores pressed to yours,
the world is more intriguing, more beautiful
close up.
Tonight, guilt copes with us.
Floor-boards gawk as each rapid second passes.

Your smell slips through my nostrils and
fogs my weary skull.
I’ll tell you secrets ‘til your tongue slips
and your conscious memory’s full.

Of moonlit body parts
littering white sheets,
was a human ear,
waiting for one sweet sound to come ‘round:
audible manifestations of a love
lost and found.

It sounds something like a cannon ball
shot through the brittle chest of a man,
falling solid in the sand and all
the while I’m left standing
holding my empty chest,

my breath sleeps best
when mingled with yours:
kiss-scented apparitions slipping from
tongues and lips and if
the night was mine
id give it to you,
wrapped in twine and
slipped into you
like words I speak
as if I knew you.

In our lightless sightlessness,
senses wallow.
gently,sweet sleep swallows
us whole,
bones and all.

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