slippery like silk a writhing worm the morning of rain, dirt caked laughing together with mud in our fists My knuckles curled tight airly perfumed, light as satin sheets sonorously, that single word effused was it love? what was that word? singeing the hair of my nose lungs greasy and charred i am blind to your poignancy a blend of senses I love you flutters butterfly silk i cannot distinguish it From the tissue-paper rip A waft of stinging salt my senses shake The rattle like wasps inside my brain i am a blur who can see naught but satin smelling mud