I’m wearing my skin and it
clatters when I walk, and
no one prepared me for
this.
He holds me and I'm
all fingers wearing
the bones of his hands, my
eyes shut flushed skin
flowers and gold and
starlight dust it
cosmic; my heartbeat clatters
pulse unsteady when
his breath is on my neck, I
touch him, starlight in his walk
luminous and burning and
golden; there is no one
here we kneel un-prepared
delicate he holds me
and I cannot want for
more than this.
