These taciturn days,
       that's how they move
Like the arm that dances around the margins
     of my crime.

I bet if you climbed on top,
          you couldn't penetrate deep enough.
      
          It's that momentary feeling of capture

                     You're the injured rabbit.

You
          would make them
                           want you

Only one touch.

{When you **** the words out of me,
              my hair covers you}
                                     & your
cataleptic eyes lay upon
               your first & last meal.

It's how I've always known it.

I mean,
          who would wake up
                       on a Thursday morning,
Sunshine beaming thru;

unraveling in the afterglow of the
                
                                Fall?