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Alyanna de Jesus Feb 2015
Words spill quietly down my ribs.
Dip between every vertebrae,
Spread across awakening skin.

Morning, beautiful, mine.

You speak with wandering syllables,
Sliding vowels and unrolling tongue.

I respond like the ocean greeting the shore.

Smooth, deliberate, desperate.

Time slows, thighs spread
Mouths know, hips beg,
Bodies suspend.

Climbing, carrying, caught.

Palms reach, fingers extend.
With ragged words, once sleek and smooth,
You ask me who i am.

Yours, yours, yours.

— The End —