I breathe in the night and fall awake
the way I fell into half-shut eyes that
demand godless oceans into becoming,
My lips play your wrists like flutes,
woodwind songs race up your spine
and spill hotly into your recesses,
All of you is waiting, blind curiosity,
My teeth mark the places you forgot
to breathe like a cave of twilight stars,
Your eyelids fold oceans to leave
their angry weight on my breath --
I am dry throat and slow industry.
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