Friday, August 13, 2010

Sts. Pontian & Hippolytus (patrons of those who work in prisons)

the only thing in the room

that ready for us

was the bed.

sheets tucked at the corners

two pillows

& one round, red sun.

your mouth is my oyster. scratch that.

your oyster is my mouth.

this is going

in an unexpected direction.

when I press my ear

to your chest, it gallops

like so many horses,

like a night on the plains.

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