When
our bed devours
what
is only Ours
and the night
sinks -

Deep
into our
hot skin, cooling moonbeams
that glaze your thighs
as our limbs
fetch the
Other
from our last drab
things...

We
moisten the burl
of our Life's
Tree...
as we lay planted
gasping.

I see
the furthest world
rising
from the
depths between...

Betwixt  -
the
Haunting of Ourselves
and a wet
Dream.