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