Lyrical shades of milk
saturate and paste
the essence of her hands,

drenched now
in the morning light,
shaded green from the venutian sun.

Build with me
the smaller pieces of touch
that connect

almost automagically
with coupled anxiety,
and magnetic cerebral delight.

Funnel down hard
on the quaking rocketry
that shuttles manless,

and without cause,
as to satiate
every threaded bead.

They removed themselves
from the situation,
this meeting of conveinence

where pressure was given
and then released,
past her gums

and into the depths
of the stomach cave system
that has drowned so many swimmers

over the years.

10/07/2013