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Poem: Coming Like Dying
By Moose

electric
wet kiss
sealing the hot
contact points of
lips, here
and below
his tongue—
a writhing
bliss between
thighs
his palms—
spreading her open
like soft leaves
uncurling
his eyes—
yellow, bestial
a familiar thousand
flashed the same
on her stake,
a thousand
eyes breaking to
dust
beneath her fury,
her smirk

but here
oh yes, here
it is her being
split
fingers twisting sheets
into ropes
as he ignites something
buried
where lust succumbs
to desire
succumbs to
yearning, no—
unbridled want

the simplest
distance between them
is three graves
deep
twice for her
and one
yet pending
for him

and she is
addicted to
dying
of feeling the last
tight pull of blood
draining,
of plunging into
crystal
water and portals
and coming,
coming
back again

he is addicted to
her, and slips
liquid hard
inside
his death,
his moment of
clarity
is found in her
wide eyes
and suckling
persistent mouth

the blind
waking
the cold
soaked sweat
of spent need
no longer frightens
her
no longer terrifies
him
they open alive to the
world
alive to each other's
bliss
resurrected in
a smile
in a wordless
word
in the death
that stirs
never into
now
and yes,
oh, again
yes—
electric


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