a sample: Sonnet 1 of 8
I. Semilunar valve closure the line traces paths through darkened forests
ripples and valleys of flesh, breath pushed out
as if swimming underwater: there is no way back,
only the well of hot blood pulling me onwards.
now I see you in the doorway:
shape sensed by smell, slow thud
of music pushing us together. the heat
of our hands touch, slide
burn and you turn
to trace my curves with your tongue
run hands over grooves in my nascent body
I fold within the hollow of your chest.
this is only the beginning.
this is where we will end.
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