// her //

I could have been there
a statue standing
in her marble skin,
the swan spun neck and the lines
of the collarbone
thin as ice.

~

My hips an eclipse
of white crushed velvet
snow sky,
the nectar in the clouds which
grace and skim the moon,
so overcast
so eager
so hungry for affection
was I.

.

.

.

.

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