i close my fingers
around the summer-ripe blossoms
that bloom in the cavities
carved into my chest
spindle fingers on ball joints
reach their spread for my waiting throat
close sweetly
softly
flush red white red
white red
and as you flood
back into my cheeks
breathing life under my skin
in the gasps of air i hear your name
foreign to my own ears
my mother tongue knows you
like a nursery rhyme
innately
like you live under my skin
flowing through my swollen veins
like sweet honey