If the whole day
lay unwrapped
unpromised
trifled by the breeze
and free to kiss
if one deep breath
found ribs
at ease to fan themselves
like brand new playing cards
and flowered from the spine
then my hands
would settle to your hips
like curious birds
my lips would find
three places
where your throat demands
three murmured passwords.
They would unlock
a box of iron, one of silver,
and then a box of red shot-laced with gold.
2 comments:
Ah, the three mythic boxes! I've met them in words also, though differently, of course. Like.
I absolutely love this. How beautiful.
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