i.
we were insatiable last night,
impelled by the alienation one finds
at the bottom of a bottle-
our numb bones in need of warming
on top of and then under
covers, under clothes.
artist's hands fumbled, frantic for an answer,
trying desperately to become closer,
as if your nails in my spine could render
us inseparable-
as if i could, with my touch,
memorize and recreate you with me,
sculpt us together
forever and not just for the night,
my labor for your labored breath,
as fleeting as your consciousness.

ii.
as i ardently watch you dream
countenance softened by sleep
i know that come morning, i'll split
and we will lead sovereign lives,
divergent until your nocturnes play
and you serenade me once again.