benjamin costello

back to poetry

prop

nose pressed to spine
painted to you from behind
dawn's strands speckle sheets
hair drizzling down my cheeks

pulled close to supple warm
stream lined form to form
breath splayed on pale white
grip on hip so tight, so tight

dark recedes too fast now
deconstruct our somatic vow
memorize me there as molded clay
to prop you up upon the day