there are such things …
your patient whisper, a
gentle breeze on the hairs of my throat.
trickling desires onto my clavicles’ thin skin.
my neck –
heavy gulps, then
eyes set — ( widened )
they blink and they flutter.
pulsating chest, in
rhythmic pulls of gravity
that holds onto the blue lines of my arms.
air gaspings while in the zone, exchanging
each other’s breath.
a pretzeling collective of 4 arms, reminding
one another of their strength in lockdom.
there are such things.