it's blue, now* someone murmured
our hands woven carelessly together
as light slipped through the blinds
was it your hand?
I am unsure
the window is framed by fire-
fire, so true and pure
just like us
a pile of bodies clutching at one another
the pleasures of skin against skin
a touch is a touch
and *** does not matter, not when
lips are so painfully soft
this union
not working towards darkness, instead,
digging in our heels against dawn
we held off the best we could
*it's blue, now