in , , ,

Secret Lover

by now, you

are aloft, soaring through

whispering clouds as i tend

to your memory

your scent

my stained and matted sheets

filaments of hair, the toothbrush

i keep for you


your towel, i press to my

face, as visions return


mirrored images

of you behind me

thrusting, thrusting, thrusting


by now, your heart has

settled.  your lungs, easing their heaving

gasps, exhale as you

withdraw from your pocket the dainty

box, black and luxurious.  alone

in your seat, peering,

glancing, craning your neck over



certain at last to go

unnoticed, you open it, studying like

a schoolboy the small, glistening

spheres still wet from insertion.  “these,”

you said, “will make your

screams split the heavens.”


then you stirred the tiny eggs

with your stick

till i tinkled,


tangled legs quivering,

weeping, exhausted…

my raptured soul,

my milky expulsion,

your oval trinkets,

you would not wash them.


by now, you have

raised them to your

face, your nostrils

inhaling their fragile fragrance,

eyes closed, whispering clouds soar

by your window


my voice

a soft echo

in a cavernous sky


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