Heat slips up our shirts, sweaty beads of ***
We twist our clothes, grabbing at flesh, groping for ***
The hard squeeze and pressure is scooping out the soul—
Please, push it out, we want to be left bare and have ***
Our skin is strung together, our bodies hollowed, dry;
Blind to the heat and the mess, we’re swept up by a blissful, empty ***
The sheets, salted with sweat, are heaved off the bed,
Pillows gone, clothing gone, here there is nothing but ***
Gasping and shouting, we purge ourselves, we are nothing—
I am pure and vacant, I’ve rushed my blood to my groin for ***
And moments like these are strained and stretched.
Then, release, the moment falls from us as wet as ***
Like sheets, pillows, clothes, the rest of me returns:
Too tired to move, I listen to our breathing, short huffs in the air after ***
Feb 1, 2010
Feb 1, 2010 at 6:58 PM UTC
Heat slips up our shirts, sweaty beads of ***
We twist our clothes, grabbing at flesh, groping for ***
The hard squeeze and pressure is scooping out the soul—
Please, push it out, we want to be left bare and have ***
Our skin is strung together, our bodies hollowed, dry;
Blind to the heat and the mess, we’re swept up by a blissful, empty ***
The sheets, salted with sweat, are heaved off the bed,
Pillows gone, clothing gone, here there is nothing but ***
Gasping and shouting, we purge ourselves, we are nothing—
I am pure and vacant, I’ve rushed my blood to my groin for ***
And moments like these are strained and stretched.
Then, release, the moment falls from us as wet as ***
Like sheets, pillows, clothes, the rest of me returns:
Too tired to move, I listen to our breathing, short huffs in the air after ***