Like cats
we move as shadows,

rubbing past ankles
down sandstone walkways with yellow windows
spilling out into the night like running yolks

sand on your tongue and in my eyes
where you kissed them pink and sore

shadows
              brushing my sides
hissing in the human ants' nest.

If we make it,
through the dark
we'll retreat into sheets
they'll curl around our bones
like milk