Eating Strawberries In the Dark
All night the blush and cooling,
the rush of making love again,
nightlight pouring its milk
across the bed
and later eating strawberries in the dark:
their red flesh so bright
they flash in the mouth
when with each bite the teeth
bisect one to its inside white star-
shape.
The moon going down pales
the room to a watery milk.
Only a slight flush in the sky.
Star-filled, love-bruised, moving apart,
we enter again the warm loam of sleep.
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