feel the night
as it bumps and flows through uswhat isn't made by the human touch?
what isn't made for our senses
by our senses
within our sights and tasteeven the gods above have curved
time-space to pull their
lovers around the rings they
bought themthe way you pulled me around you
so, here I am
pressing against the marble floor
about to press into your beautiful hell
and become nothing with the universefeeling the night
watching the rhythm in your seaglass eyes
so precious, and manmade
like the rest of your body