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About him

Fishnets

Afterwards,

when the room was quiet

she noticed moonlight

filtering through

the wooden blinds

laying down lines

like a relief map,

on rumpled sheets

she lay

still as silence,

a black slip

twisted 'round

her soft topography

holding her in place

a frozen still-life

but for white-hot fishnets

moving down her legs

in paler shades

of midnight.

cmh

His interests

Us

It's the curve of your thigh

the lines of my fingers

the tender, deliberate way

I would hold you

still as a broken clock

to make known my intention

that moment

a taste of immortality

would roll down your back

like a warm crystalline tear.

cmh

His friends