thach weave, pt. xi

my lips are framed,
deeper,
swallowed in,
following impulse
and his body.
there!
i coax,
he hesitates.
so little time to waste.
heels against ribs,
hands firm,
ready –
tremble –
silence, into consciousness.
soft youthful bravado
becomes a whisper.
fingers entwined,
you,
holding my heart.
you
were always
the dangerous one.

On Tradition

Aus Gott wird man gebor'n, in Christo stirbet man. //////////////// Und in dem heil'gen Geist fängt man zu leben an.

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