Draw your foul tongue
out of the depths of your sleep.
The day has fermented
on your breath.
Draw your torpid mind
to the surface of your skin
and feel my
electricity.
It’s late, and you *****
your words.
So you close your eyes and
heave out the day.
But in the morning,
when your tongue is light,
when your breath is easy,
you will touch your lips to my ear
and whisper something warm
and weary.