Come sit with me, you say
By the window
Where the sliver of my slip
The coarse of your shirt sleeve
Lay entwined like we should be
Not estranged like we

Naked god-- I want to believe
You skin, damp, warm,
squeaking against worn leather
That lax wink of your cock
Your fingers scraping against your thigh

See, hear that, it's beginning
My blood coursing
My robe parting
But always the wind, cool, cool
cold

I follow your hand
down over my own
Across your belly and mine-- apart
And we cradle, probe, search
We whisper, gasp, we cry
But not our names
never

It may have been lust
or something else that we touch
Too soon this time
Wet digits still burrowed in me
Yours slack, petting, lulling
as we come down

We eventually eye our guns
Bullets that hold our names
On the table, they seem far away
distant

The call will come
A name will fill the air
for the first and last time

I still itch
You're playing with your SIG
and cock

I itch

Copyright © 2001 sofia mauja. All Rights Reserved. May not be re-printed in any form without express written consent of the author. Do not copy or post.