Skin Tide

Cellular smudged edges of blood strung easyover

construed of HimHer in common likenesses.

Singular.

Skintight swathe; the sun bedrolled in your eyes;

tumbling for a dare. Octave-dropped voice roared

in the whisper “ I Am S. . .”

Love walks on fingerpoint amongst cargo passengers

their lives fleeing into a concrete earth. against

the pedestrian: she his eyes, he her skin.

Permanence blunted into steel. Business and hunger

treads tarmac, hedges pavements, dodges traffic,

and the tinned homeless. They lose themselves

to the din and dine recklessly on their muslin feast.

Walls to the box of Him. Endlessness to the sky of Her

the inkling of enclosure, the outing of exposure

The reach by which I write you to the quintessent

wet slide into ink, penned and wrung. Paper chaste

and tongue wrestled, stretching for completion

Caught like dew. He:You dance on my fingers.

Skintide.

04:38 on Sunday. She: Kiss me raw so I might bleed

into your inner lining and stain the wind.

The breath of you sears me to the stars where bloodless I shatter
 and turn the skyline diamond blue, so I may not tread barefoot
 near your heart… Undone.

Now and now, again; slow kisses, napewards drowning to the sound

of a voice with which he swallows the words between her lines:
Each buried to the root.

Anonymous