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
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