10 November 2009

The Waning New Moon

You roll over and hold her
hair gets in your mouth and nose
licking your lips and softly exhaling
breathe in the scent of exciting danger
you want her closer

She tells you
'I want you to hold me
but my stomach hurts
hold me soft'

You have to hold everything
about her gently
your words, touch, and thoughts

It’s not just her stomach
it’s her skin, hands, head
her eyes, and more so, her ears

Yet, the pain
of biting your tongue
fails in comparison
to her silence.

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