Smooth as surgeried lips, 
your skin spreads its thin voice 
over the quiet colour of night. 
Sleep like a ghost rises 
from the contours of your breath gently 
as if a beast cocks its ears against my ribs. 
The lush warmth of your body brightens 
in the room as if coming from a distance 
& everywhere opens inside me 
like a chipped bowl 
held for too long under the sun. 
Somewhere our sweat tangles, 
ache nods its weary head & begins 
to rise & harden, its stone angels almost afloat. 
In that fabled place, your body stretches 
into a sea & veils me in its dewy need.
& I, simple as a pebble, settle deep 
like a memory into your voice. 
Then I begin to sharpen into focus 
like heartbreak & you begin to recede 
until only your skin remains, pile 
upon pile of wet soil & all the palm trees 
drunk with my tears
***
![old-woman-574278_1280.jpg](https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/warpedpoetic/23xVK9omRnG3DXXsSgrzEv4JcC67oDzHHHfFp8RkkWFu3UDBwdXFAUa5uZXEbC5WVs3JM.jpg)
[Pixabay](https://pixabay.com/photos/old-woman-desert-old-age-bedouin-574278/)