Consummation
My back is half a moon
arched across the smooth expanse.
Silence
tickles my lips and drips from
the silver skin of
the round light
flare.
As you slowly pace yourself
into
consummation of our blue-black dreams
taking time,
to push me
over
the glowing horizon,
just as the hot-light starts to
flicker,
so we wake in panting
breaks
sweet wetness,
on our minds,
euphoric sheety scents
of you…
left in my
morning after,
after,
aftertaste…
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