God how you
exploit my
senses and
wholeness
just by the
enveloping
scent of
your perfume
I sometimes
imagine myself
plunging and
latching on
your back
until I die
suffocating
from your
godliness
YOU ARE READING
Albeit flawed,
PuisiI was basking under the sun-the waves muffle the sound of my breathing; and I bury myself with cautionary confidence in the sand and with it the memory of your four faces. How can something lethal be life-restorative?
