ma belle fleur
with swollen knuckles
tangled hair

your veins are
small rivers flowing
against grain
poison granules in deep blue
my lips and
teeth learning to
swim in them
draw red to my tongue
a soft rain

our breasts look different
in sunlight
bright white against
sand, your desert showered
in touch
I trace the round plate
of brown flesh
press my hips
to your hips
rock like a cradle in the bough
a ship in a storm

drink my red wine
ma belle fleur
sail in my veins


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