It’s stoic and still, flushed in white light,
Yellow and blue.
Hollowed out in my wall,
The cupboard.
Disturbing its silence with our screams and sweaty touch
It frames us.
The art of me and you.
The sound our colour makes spills out
Over the sill, my flesh pressed in fury
Up against five walls,
Clasping. Our eyes lingering,
I admire you.
Soaking up your instinct.
The art of me and you.