Sunday, August 24, 2014


I feel inflamed.
Like I want to surrender into his veins,
like every drop of his sweat I want to consume,
mix it with my scent and bathe in it till the moon rises
from his nape.
He rides his motorcycle in the air
and I can see the whole world rushing past us,
leaving us swamped into each other
so tightly packed, so intimately convoluted
that I can unlock each itch of my body,
see myself covered in his bareness.
I can dance all night, 
all nights
like this, if he holds me till the end of time
and I can smoke us up to the same transient
moment where I have kept us occupied-
inside and safe, where his name is affiliated with mine
when the moment is absolute-
infinite and as real as nothing ever could be.