Pulse
Lay rest
your heavy head
upon my sunken chest
with a sense of satisfaction.
Sleep sound
and deep entwined
with me suspended
in your snake-oil skin.
I'm hanging loosely
off your contented breathing
heaving
out and in
with each seductive tempest
gale of passion, love, and sin.
Your slender nails
of window frost trace
trails of quicksilver
into my silhouette as runes
of icy vice and pleasure
illuminating each awkward imperfection
and setting me at peace
between your heartbeats.
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