last nite 9.4.7

it was when the ceiling shattered

splintered by this flesh and noise; vibrations,

i cried

because your fingers

stitched together a prayer in the folds of this heaven

lurched spine, heavy hands, numb filanges

wet silent streams fall every which way

possibly

you, will be the death of me

and i will wait in the wake of you

index and thumb pressed between a velvet curtain,

musk of grown woman want,

lust swims amongst the wind, fleeing the window

of a first floor apartment

shaking the earth; a jealous twitch,

around your name, this thick tongue