may my fingertips sink into your soft flesh
pale as wheat, beige and plain, a perfect mesh
as the child dips their hand into play-dough
and imprints themself for one eternal moment
may I swim through the pool of your life
crimson liquid rippling aside of strife
as your rough ochre bones are rife
I nestle between two thick ribs as atonement
for the years carelessly wasted
without a hint of you to be tasted
without your expressive eyes,
the pale hair on your arm by lamplight,
no, not a single solitary sight.
but now, come day or night
we are together
like the sun is to the moon
as the clouds cover the sky
beneath your blood
inside your bones
shall I lie.
