I dreamt us.
I am a lonely man
that thought he had eternity,
and woke,
to find an empty bed.

How
could this
be true?

This dream that binges
on my only source
of peace,
come true.

And all the times
you swore
that it wouldn't be,
have rotted to lies.

I rise each morning
on thoughts of you,
eager, ernest, wanton...

And it carries me up out of bed
Into my day
Until we meet again

Your love is what takes me there
floating in bliss,
lighter than air.

Can you see these words?
Stare down the barrel of this
alphabet soup,
broth of blood.

Touch my hair,
trigger,
and muscles
turn to puddles.

Warmth rises
so smoothly my fingertips
trace geoglyphs,
markings for the gods to see,
from whence you descend upon
mi vida y yo estoy Feliz,
permanence permeates
as our droplets of sweat glide
from my white flesh
onto your coffee-with-creamer
skin of mocha.

Slide across your subtle folds
Tease with fingers
Wetness
Your body always responds
It knows the touch
of me entering your honey
Slick, like a baby seal
and just as bald.

So many words
spread across so many tears.
The days add up
to dessicated husks.

"I will walk through Hell for you," he swore.

"I'd stay with you even if we were homeless," she lied.

And how the moments add up.
How they take and take and take, sapping away like the hatred for the face in the mirror.

All of these thoughts melt
like the gates between her legs
now open
to his whispered words.