The Musk

Kissing dust
The one i trust
i never showed you
the mess of us
how when you lean
we  scatter
Sherbet Kisses
 this mirage
says harps just dont care
Though hands are thick and locked like chains
Find me in the arc near your shadow
Preparing the tedium
Of your tomorrow
Wiping windows
sprawled out on desk
an itching flesh
It needs caressing
Kissing dust
This self i love
this you
i trust
for fingers do not
own the musk.


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