rumination
on face landscapes -
stones woven into the earth -
curves like ports keep
his mouth a safe harbour
his sweet eyes shut fast in their pillows,
framed with tickling feathers
that sing my bare shoulders awake at dawn.
here a bone below,
the steady under-of-you
marrow under running warm with who knows what -
beautiful bound up in private currents,
stitched in to skin too tightly
we come together to shake ourselves free; vain and in vain
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