poetry is like silk,
it unravels between us
and we are caught
in its shimmering spread

we lay tangled
in its sensual fire
and the warmth of our bodies
– your leg over mine
my arm splayed over your chest –
seeps through
its every pore

we appear resting,
but our hearts beat in rhythm
our souls are enraptured
and our enmeshed skin
pours sweat like honey
glistening and dewy

and the silk wraps in everything,
the ecstasy and the subdued calm
the aftermath and the afterglow
as we quietly undress
and dress ourselves
back into its soft folds.

© SoulReserve 2019 

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