A morning soaked in hashish
and lemonade; we sneak
tastes, tendrils of each other in the
peachy light. watch stars
billow at the window, mouth of God
sighing our tapestry into the air,
outstretched like a name

we rub at each other,
sometimes to bleeding,
beveling this or that edge

your mouth is a gristmill

most days I am incendiary.

but we bloom forever.

sometimes I know it.

our hearts are flawed,
waiting for love to make them real.