felt like the sound
the sound of my head
smacking against the concrete

every inch of your skin
will be stained with my kisses
and burned by my tears

drooling, drooping eyes my
gaze pools languidly around you
soaked clothes hanging, translucent
warmed by the moonlight
and warm lips, cool breath
citrus and milk, hidden veneration
clotting acidulous and sweet
irises glazed like the wet glass
in the cathedral, heart against my ear
the soft tide, satiates me,
washes me away, like the pale light after the rain falls,
in the tide of his breathing
to smoky stillness
and heavy sleep

where i can be with you
created by our dancing
in a hungered dream

the ache parts
you come cold
as sleep and freezing kisses
still close
i have this every sometimes
filling me
suspiratio

There are three souls
in every relationship.
The two...
And the one created
by their dancing.