The ventricles of my only heart form a perfect angle with your thighs.
We won’t need a protractor tonight.
Sometimes I want to pour you into a bottle of wine and draw from you
again and again until I’m drunk on your skin.
I’d be an alcoholic for you.
The things we do in the dark are the private things, the things we want
no one else to know about. We undress ourselves
under cover of shadows, our bones forming ladders with the wall,
and we try to crawl up one another’s bodies
in the remaining time we have left.
Once I witnessed a lightning storm, and thought nothing
could be more beautiful
until I met you.