The warm leaves that twirl om my feet
your lips/ the effect of petrichor
a vintage scent of lovemaking
I carry your marks on my thighs
the interwined fingers,
the scent that blooms the winters.
My therapists say to stay away from the fever
from the red- blue dementia
It happens again.
In the dim- orange light,
we melt away
against the mellow walls
things I can only understand now.
Everything embers on my tongue
the silk- white sheets between my ribs
The body is a marine kaleidoscope,
an abode of abundant light
with the green songs
you float on my belly.
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