You walked into sex -

'I think i am made of pink ribbons' -

worms & branches from

the gardening - &

all that's left.

Just a dark woman -

a body & an underground forest.

For two nights on register,

so dark, so slack &

a-wanting in me -

my eyes turned black

my body - the

curve in my back

arched like a snake

from the resounding left

over of your noise.

Toys, you left me,

things of yourself to play with

to resonate in me,

so when alone, in silence -

I rocked to a bare-bone

of that rhythm

we slumbered through,

discovered in the language of last week.

The beetles, the grass, the weeds & the worms

& all the things that

flow, that moved  - they gave my

rhythm back to me &

through the magnificence

of time the winged

creature -

it flew in to pierce my passion

as i saw your face &

wrapped around you

in the darkness

the warmth of us miles apart

had lit the day already gone

& not ready to depart -

but us?

we are ready in the dark

curling, swurving of life

we curve & lie in each others' frame

never to be the same

again.

Our skins becoming even darker, through

not being in the Sun.