Tarnished

 

I want to smear myself solid as a clay against your skin
like another
a desire to penetrate your pores
and breathe your hormones
experience a layer of sweaty proximity
to what restriction testifies
and yet I know
that mud dries
and falls off
in an elapsed portion of the heat
the body generates longing
in a sweat of a stress
in the absence of
an unknown addressee.

Springing truths
Light Acrylics

 

 

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