the half light
calls
your throat the
black horizon,
name dissolving
salty
on my tongue.
your incubator chest
hums
new
songs
into my
fingertips.
do
that again.
rumble all
delicious
low
&
sweet
…
I will follow
the fluid air the
thrumming wings
the graveled
honey
trapped
between
the ridges
of my skin
traveling your skin
to
north
to
breathe the earthy thunder
rolling from
your
lips.
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