Theme Park at its Darkest

Her absence

luscious and pendulous

rhythmic and sussurant

respires beside me in the darkness

Within it

beats her exquisite nakedness

terminals of a battery that sizzled against my flesh

three triangles of whiteness –

Along with

a language, perfectly wordless

transmitted through a myriad of tiny contacts

webbed throughout the skin’s surface

I heard

her close the fleeting shade of her lashes

she laid them against her cheek where

the embers of the sunset lit and gathered

She inhaled

the night, pressing it back against my lips

it came seething into my mouth

upon the tide of a fervid kiss

I reached

a magnet filled with blood, up into her silence

to carve a space beneath her heart

and fill it with an ardent absence

I wonder

which parts, if any, of my absence

resonate within the womb

of her tenebrous silence

RIP gorgeous August,

1994-2017

This entry was posted on April 19, 2018 at 7:25 am and is filed under Love letters, poetry, Pornography with tags August Ames, poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.