her lips are wet flowers
heart deep in soft light
all will become lightening
on a moment's notice
and the stars might shine red
for awhile
liquid iron is not vanishing
and my mouth makes me her
my heart, my eyes
the rhythm of my life
all make me her
i wrap myself
around an abstraction
of her finger
restless, cagey, caught
under a collapsing ceiling
nonetheless warm
and prone to sleeping, tired
from all the long walks
home.
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