Early mornings
With us wrapped
In the wings of our sweat
Ignoring the muted call of birds
And the bright,
Screaming
Sun.

I pull you close,
Lose my fingers
In the passion
Of alligator eyes-
The cheese sharp
Scent of your ****
Closed it's noose.

And I found myself upon the floor craving a halo.
But the saints are dead, and bleed like violins.

The unmistakable relief
Of your curves
Are distant now;
Where once we stalked the city's
Whispering night;
Now we entertain widows
Full of secrets.

Only distant eiderdown
Holds our halo
Holds our breath
And monochrome death
In relief of
early mornings