Superimpose my reflection in your bones-
Call me a masochist.
Wanna be so deep inside you
I can taste the tremble in your tendons
Marrow to membrane
At 4:30 in the morning
11:00 on a Sunday
Replicating a rapture with the friction in fingers
Compose a sonnet out of rhythmic exhalations
I’ll swallow your singsong then place a mockingbird in my mouth
In hopes that it will fly down my throat so it can croon it back out.
Call me organist.
Evoke a symphony from our shivers
Strum the strings of our bodies like harps
My spine will contain the chorus
Your pelvis the verse
Move against me like the ocean
Girl, with the mermaid hair
Tentacles to tendrils
How we found each other in a shipwreck
Confused by the attraction of our flesh and fins in the shrapnel
We will whisper each other to dream with midnight manifestos—
I will tell you about Mississippi
You can tell me about growing up 1,743 miles underneath the sea
Enthralled by our histories
We will be the thing that people call myth
They will want to dissect us so they can figure out how we fit
Back to belly
Our bodies arched like the moon
Resenting the morning for splitting us in two
You smell of firewood and sea foam
Taste like a pear
Taste like hazel
Feel as delicate as fog
Feel as warm as whiskey
Want to kiss you as soft as a whisper
Want to kiss your elbows and your nose because I meant it when I told you
Every part of you is beautiful
Escape the city with me
Like renegade stallions we’ll outrun the engines
Rename the streets
For there is sapphire in our palms
When we touch we burn peridot
Let us roll ourselves tight and sleep in the canvases
Of Klimt and Magritte
Warm and full we will be
Tentacle to tendril
Marrow to membrane
Practicing the proximity of bodies
For we have both found comfort in loneliness before
But not tonight.
Call me selfish
For wanting to set fire to the maps so you won’t return
To the sea.
read more about lacey: http://laceyroop.com
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