Eddie takes care of me.

Our heads laid neath
street lights, a wild sky,
turned wrong, then right
across the bend
we haven't seen —
just experienced.

Forgotten flock
with no stake,
who solopsize only
while hugging and kissing.
Getting old.
Craving more.

The harmony
of shucked
clothes guising
vulnerabilities
to someone
who will listen.

With peeled eyes,
and closed lips,
his hands ride my hips,
soft flesh meets tough skin,
collapsing in.

We look at the other.
Please the other.
Stroke the other
with cupped hands,
dead before bloom,
fallen,
uprooted.