A poem about two people in bed.
His hands lay dormant.
She spoke of patterns and stardust,
made him lie next to her in the dark
as the heat crawled past them,
howling at the moon
and provoking the sky.
The land dripped with sweat,
windows stained with its salt.
His eyes erupt. The sun does not
rise, and sudden stillness suffocates.
She dances by the wayside, writhing
in ecstasy. His eyes hold her, spitting ash.
Darkness hovers, waiting for the sky
to shed skins. Twilight dances in the breeze.
Her heart lay dormant.
She tattoos its likeness on her skin
and takes his hand in hers
Created: Oct 01, 2009Document Media