The night moon washed the sheets
A pale blue. You, the brown
Body, lay curled as a dead
Cinch worm in the summer heat.
Far from dead you breathed, and
I felt you in my cock, as the pulse
Of your longing tightening
Around me. Your ribs expand in
Ebb and flow, drunken eyes taking
Notes as though they need this class
To graduate. The brown body lay curled,
as I weep in solitude.