#37

fingers curl around the glass
wet with liquor sweat

eyes glow
caught in a rapture

water
drips
into the spaces between
his fingers

yellow snakes
leap
and tangle on the wall

I miss the perfection
of his lips
locked layered with mine

the night is inked
a frail moon sliver

a knot of hair
in my hand
my fingers glide
through soft tufts

we meet
melting warm and relenting
gravitating

even cold wet plaster
warms with work
even frozen memory
thaws

——

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