deluge

6/23

prior to sunrise:

shadows have consumed our natural bodies
i see infatuation, passion, malaise
his irises are not visible to me
yet i can feel his ardent gaze

his calloused hands trace mine
as if they were once conjoined, long ago
he rests his heavenly face on my collarbone
and tells me things i shouldn't know

his voice, devoid of sleep and cognition,
resembles the friction of unpolished stones
tanzanite, zircon, and turquoise
i recite these wherever i go

his fingertips brush my shoulder blades
as he molds my skin like dough
he remained gentle
even when our body heat began to grow

exhaling desire on my neck
he twists my flaxen hair
wrapping it around his fingers
like rings he'll always wear

positioned close as physically possible
it still didn't seem close enough