Sta.sh
.
how am i able
to bottle our bodies
and the blanketless
between
that holds
only our breath
as it brushes the seams
of our blistering lips
and battling tongues
that form whispers
and moans
from our mouths
as we merge, melting
in
with the other
in
meticulous meshing
of skin-
scented covers
in
armswrapping
legswinding
thrusting of lovers
in
words
of contextual, sexual
colors
and syn-
tax sonatas
of textual
mutters?
how can i write
the truth of
embrace
and the honesty
of feeling
your hands on my
waist?
and how can i spell
out the way your
skin tastes
or the feel
of my thighs
pressing
in on your face?
i am not able
to market such
sighs
or capture such
beauty
as the look
in your eyes
when we
come to that
zenith
that highest
of highs,
with simple
poetics
and dotting
of i's.
.
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