bodies awash with
sin and self loathing-
we fold into mutual
affections
like water.

pinpricks of light
force holes through
the curtains
and I hold your gaze,
mathematical
and steady.

my thoughts stumble
over broken lips
to bleed out into
the space between us
like a spring pig
at the slaughterhouse

and you smile,
trace my jaw
with your index finger,
but the words just
hang there
with the dust
glittering in the light.

touch me,
i'm real.
forgive me,
i'm ill.