Uncovered (a poem)


pull down the tent and sleep
with me under the open sky;

let your hands be the fire
that warms me—

shed these false coverings
that hold us and breathe deep

the wild honeysuckle that grows
from the curve in the nape of my neck;

when dark kisses the edges
of the day I will trace

that thin, pink line on the horizon
following your collarbone,

staining your skin translucent
with star pigment as

night deepens like a bruise,
tender under your fingertips;

that soft place in the contour
of my thigh, your canvas.

my dream-self will lift with our
breath into the air

wavering on the water in
the shadows; I am ocean mist,

glistening over all of you,
a pulsing second skin.

sleep with me under the open sky
and hide from me no more.


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