Anatomies
by @windsor-i-guadalupe-jr
this is now your
a
r
m
and all the fingers now mashed for
love is an ellipsis
and these are now her
l o i n s
and there
a flower untouched
by the somersault
of summer
and sex only a folly
of fools
there is only this.
poetry of the senses
that when we both
die, i have gone,
and she is still
alive.