The Other Day, I Was a Lover In a Shining Armour
The last time we built a communion with the softest part of our bodies,
the recipe for putting each other’s bodies to warm were our breaths.
We hung every disruption at threshold of our chasm, & embraced
the echoes of our intimacy. I lit your larynx on fire with inconsistent syllables
with my thrust, pulled a fistful of your hair & planted my lips on your neck.
& it sprouted as a deep breath from your mouth. I measured the width
of my palm with the hourglass of your body—trickling my fingers down
the god your body withholds. The other day, I was a lover in a shining
armour riding my horse into the empire of your body, chanting
each other’s names in a slow rhythmic tempo. The unpunctuated frenzy
we engaged sent our carnal appetite to exhaustion, & we laid on the bed
like two lovers cuddling on the moon tracing a map on each other’s back.