Her Heaving Line

Don't tie me a tight heaving line knot like those used to gird monks to Mister Christ or to add weight to throws and casts of messenger lines... /

Our Cemetery of Companions

You will allow yourself to re-settle into old comforts on his threadbare sofa... /

Do not throw anger back at your other unless you are ready to stoke their ire - redoubled surelye by your avoiding eye?... /

I settled on love before I fell - drunk on your kissed-sips - your wet heat on my unfurled tongue..., /

I study there in your sudor pool which through this night is drip-fed off your hips and thighs in twists where your legs are no more your legs .../

Those three words were declared too quickly for you by my slow tongue - with a cluck of uv .../

Entwinements of sweat fill this floatation tank - flooded by drips off sex... /

It is now measurable - this effect of you - by improved qualities across my skin... /

Waking without you stretched and pinned like a readied canvas bared and laid to light... /

His twisting right foot takes him past that door where she had twice - maybe more - quick-scurried through .../