Wednesday, September 06, 2006

a craning.

and then, just frames.
if we're quiet and shut the door,
they won't know.

so quiet, we'll scream in nerve endings.
quiet like window panes.

leaving fingerprints on the skin loving your ribcage.
leaving mouthprints on where your throat meets your vessel.

so if it's dark and if we don't tell a soul,
they won't figure us out.
bring me in with you;
guide me at arm's length.
when we meet at the eyes again,
that's when it starts.
a soft and expectant sonata,
this will be our masterpiece.
breathe me in with all of you.

quiet like archways.

i want to see the shapes our clothes make on your floor.
dunes, i think.
mountain ranges, i think.

elbows and knees dividing the friction into angles. a craning neck and a smoothed out back. reaching out for you and me and everything and more. so much. handfuls, and nails. play the passion in my ears. don't stop.

and then, just frames.

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