Monday

tumbleweed tongue
sentient
sediment
adamantine ink
here's to your shadow
yours
the way  it paints
the stones
the stillness and the light
filaments
each piece each piece
bled into the blood
brushed against the bruise
kissed inside the kiss
back to the fog
of our
quiet descending we
eat
the lotus
seamless
unwise echoing love into
the clever arms of skin
we are kin
in the gutter throb and the kindness of eyes
that long curve
leads away
way
ploughing
this concrete acre
with our knees