prayers 0.3, (for tomatoes & hardwood floors)

the tension between us is thick, heavy
like the taste of a still, summer, sun-warmed tomato
sprinkled with salt
i could devour my lover that way

we touch without touching
a stolen glance, a wolfish smile, a crooked eye
whispers in a secret language
a coda, a covenant

clinical white sheets give way
to imperfect rosy skin
burning pink with need
and desire

we kiss on the cold hardwood floor
my hair, a chocolate-brown curtain,
hangs like a veil, apocryphal
the only modesty left

all hands and hunger

i catch my reflection
in the glass window
and could swear my eyes are glowing, wild

i could eat you alive
your bones too