“with kisses worthy of your wild mouth”

December 20th, 2002 · 12 comments

and i tell my senses; quiet, all of you.

and i tell my small hands that they need to stop shaking before i drop something breakable.

i don’t think you understand, the way i shape you into midnight and coil there like a small, hot star. how my fingers trace the outline of you, placing you here and there and maybe slightly to the middle. until you are bright and still; the ghost of this thing in me.

resting

in the curve of my hip.

Mood: like a wide storm. ancient.
Musique: these dark things should be revered.

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