day four

out there the sun is rising cold over me, silently explaining that i am no longer inside. light invites itself into my space to show off the ugly real, to blow away the fulfilling immagined. better to be asleep today. then you cover my eyes with your arm, whispering far away things until there is calm in the light. i really don't care about you, only the comfort knowing who you are and where you're from provides. I listen intently. what happens next is irrelavant and out of my controll, because nothing is effected by the ill. your motion lasts head to toe. I know it exactly. we are not old in the morning, nor will we ever be.

perhaps i will not speak today, for it is not expected. perhaps i will taste my own silence for hours warming and cooling with thoughts of things niether here nor there. i can feel my blood and its perfume. i can feel the softness of my hair and the weightlesness of my breasts, and the slick press of my largest organ against yours against mine. i am calm and you are nothing. you are sweet.