Wednesday, June 4, 2008

When something is right

Me and my lover; we sit adjacent on the antediluvian couch

I can only imagine being equiponderant, to everything in his mind

Lungs begin to hurt, my sides; dolorific

I delineate the indentation of his spine with my thumb over and over

My favorite place is in the crook of your neck

These hands fold into yours, my body folds into your body

Here we lay, here we stay

Mapped out in your bed, little countries, and oceans we sail to and fro.

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