your unforgiving body, supple
when rolling through my fingers:
the sands of you
are so cold when the night comes.
and in the blackness of your empty beach
i rub driftwood together
fruitlessly trying to extract
a single spark of fervor.
in the brisk silvers of the moon,
i wish your warmth would stay with me
for more than the time it takes
your body heat to leave the sheets.
i will forever pick these slivers from my palms,
stinging every time you crawl naked
to place your body on my blisters again.