for you, who got me…

by shadymama

we

are all

damp limbs, tangled

hair,

steady pulse

as

we lay breathless

but

certain

after love’s

acrobatics and

i know

                                                       this

is of some

consequence,

the depth

and gravity

of

which, I couldn’t

say,

but here?

in the gray of

early dawn?

“endless”

sits, patient,

on the

tip of my

tongue.

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