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March 19, 2014 (12)

March 19, 2014 (11)

March 19, 2014 (13)

Around the body, puddled, as you breathe,
I feel your heart beating softer, slower,

drying begins from heated bodies. We
play in puddles, this sweet-scented moisture

that glows, cools, as the friction-induced beads
of sweat evaporates. Sunlight slavers

upon hard muscles, what falls, slashed through, bleeds
through these dappled down drapes —- gypsum lovers,

soft, lithe —- our aftermath. The story we’re
leaving for new generations. Daughter,

learn the sword, battle plans, the dialect
of war, for then you’ll protect the queer,

daft and fabulous. A godling savior
no man has ever been: divine, perfect.