Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Pregnant Cervix 7 Weeks

anvil

I imagine,
your body,
on my bare back.
I hear,
now
your skin
heated
from my experienced hands.
're my loneliness,
the desires of my burning,
my hammer
intrepid
my patient
anvil.
I love and I hide,
hidden, then
you seek.
Why
as
seems useless,
see me live.
think of you,
instead
means go,
means
have you still.

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