Entre Nous

This is where I love you.

Oh yes...

Here, where little black plastic wheels bring the dawn in on a cart,

Where lightning has turned our little sand burrows into glass

And we goggle

At how many different faces we have broken into.



The rooster is dead.

We soon will be, so kiss me now,

Right here...

We'll pretend the black mold is dark grapes

And that we are goddesses

Lazing in the baths, those spaces between panic and blankness.



Did you think I loved you

In a better way?

With dainty little shoes to kick off as I sit on the fresh hotel bed?

Would there be little mints?

A magnum?

A rose falling  with the languorous, unpromised hours?



I tell you,

The rooster is dead,

The fox is hiding.



Here, we lean,

Like sick trees, denied enough light.

It is here that I love you,

Here that I tat together the bubbles that will stop my heart

In the moment that I reach for you,

To place a veil between this place and every hope that ever came in carrying a clip board,

Saying,

Oh yes, yes, bring this one,

And we will see...



The rooster is dead,

The fox is hiding.

This is the place where I love you,

Where the corridors split like bronchi,

And I finally whisper,

Please,

Don't leave me here.

I am instantly shamed by my weakness,

But I never know whether to crow, be silent,

Or just

Admire your beauty through the musty parallax

Of this place I have always called home.

_______

for One Shoot Sunday 

I am back, darlings, typing away madly on my new netbook. My welcome back is to be soundly outdone on this prompt by the evil Hedgewitch.