Friday, November 20, 2009

Something like his mouth

Grip my waist

Feel the bones press in

A spider’s belly.

Searching around fingers

Searching what we didn't know

I touched

Something hot and wet

Like his mouth

My hand pulled back

Smoldering coal

I could feel the dying

Of something in me

I could feel the re-bearing

of a load 

I can't imagine again 

to carry.

Sea grey

Lightest frost

Eyes that push 

and pull me out

I drink it in 

Wine of symphony

Arrange your notes on me.

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