You spin shadows
Into curls
Along the links 
Of my back
 
The thin, blue flesh
Of a lover’s hand
Shifts
Beneath the masses
Of a tangled 
Fury
 
We lie
Under summer stars;
Rolling into the clutches
Of a drug cloud
Moving
To the waves
Of an angry silhouette
And the flicker
Of a heartshine
That grasps
 Onto the boughs
Of time;
A settling of forces
 
It gleams
In the clear shine
Of an oval eye
And we watch death move 
In 
Mismatched circles, 
Behind locked doors,
Beside scales,
The nom de plume, 
The black safe of indiscretions
That we have learned to worship…
 
As our bodies mold to
To the cold face of a slated floor