You’re sky in ecstasy.
My lips touch
the blight of your pinked fruit.
What we need is a vacation.
Perhaps to Croatia
where on the balcony of a hotel
overlooking the Mediterranean coast
I’ll dream of Odysseus
and you will drink your Magpie Tea.
But I don’t want to get to know you
only investigate the mysteries
of your body
and just leave the rest for my fantasy
Avert your eyes when we pass each other in the hall.
I am a scavenger
muted by the notes
somehow know to play.
Peace in ecstasy your sky showers blue patterns
over the land
and I want to play in the mild breeze
an abrasive knock
a creeping paralysis crawls over the carpeted floor.
I shiver frightened into your forbidden nature
limp and broken
by the softness of your shoulder
beneath the sharpened knifing shadow
of an aristocratic chin.
The couch is lonesome now.
I am cold beneath the blanket.