Glass

At times when there is only breath between yours

and mine, my legs, your limbs,

where there may be time to eat and feast upon minutes

or miasmas, who knows.

But there are edges of her hands that have not touched,

anything other than her battles and worn velvetine gowns

drenched in blood.

That said, he was clasping his digital anecdote with nothing other than

buckets for feet, which were as cold as iced rivers.

High as the interstellar freeway,

my head collapsed like cotton sheets blown to the ground,

orange eyes saw graph paper skies and

quixotic neon capsules – I flew, not you.

You went somewhere else, apparently,

but I kissed your glass skin

and followed you to sleep.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s