She was dreaming about bodies.

Fleshy ripples and breaths breathing into her mind and curling

Through the dark space behind her eyes.

They’d turn to smoke and leave her body through her nostrils,

Tiptoeing down her philtrum to the border of her upper lip,

Then slip into the opening there where air escapes from her lungs.

Some of it, before, would wind and dance into the air above her sleeping face.

She didn’t see it but she did feel it.

She never speaks of her dreams.

She wouldn’t dare let any more smoke leak

From her lips.

Only once has she placed her mouth against another

And let her breath fill his lungs.

He pulled away for a moment and opened his eyes.

He stayed like this,

Eyelashes grazing against eyelashes and

She couldn’t focus on him because he was too close.

She let him kiss her and take her dreams, again and again and again.

He grabbed the corner of the sheet and threw it off

Of their tangled thighs and knees and ankles and feet.

He leaned onto his forearms,

His hands in fists next to her ears,

His eyes staring at her still.

She placed her hands on him,

Felt the beating muscle lying just below his skin.

He was strong, and here

He was hers.

So here

She was his.


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