I give you bones wrapped in blushes –
Trembling in maroon
And hypnotised by the plughole lines
Leading me into your fingertips.
The air is photograph still.
You hold my hips and watch me
Turn to a gaunt, shivering bruise
Beneath you. Slowly,
You lower yourself
Down from above.
Compressing plural into singular,
Our flesh arranging as tightly as muscle.
I trace blueprint shadows in the dark.
Your sighs roll away my eyes
And hide them in the back of my head.
I am little more than sweat
Layered with blindness.
But I can shape you like hot clay.
My thumb presses the hollow of your
Temple, summoning gasps
From deep until they push
Against the underside of your skin.
Here, I can hold you as mine.
My pale devotion held close.
And I don’t want to let go.
I feel how we are:
Panting and breathless,
Choking on the recycled white of the other,
And the rhythm of us shakes the sky.