literature

IV

Deviation Actions

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Literature Text

Your room is bathed

in gold light.

The effect of

bronze curtains.



It smells like you.

It’s cluttered with clothes

and knickknacks.

The smell of coffee drifts

from the shop below

and through the open

window muffled speech

floats.



Still, it is unbearably quiet.

I can hear your breath

and the turquoise sheets rustle like

dry leaves as I sit up

-examining the damage-



A bruise on my arm,

you must have grabbed me

at some point.

A burn on my throat.

Finger prints mar my ass.

I can feel my body.



A fucking miracle.



Your sleeping face is

unnervingly peaceful.

You show no guilt,

though I doubt I’d

be able to tell.

Your hair is a mess,

standing every which way.

Your muscles draw my eyes,

I feel an itch in my fingers.



Paper and pencil are

got, without waking you.

I trace the lines

and forms.

Your lips even seem

to smile, secretly.

Lights flash in my eyes,

sparkling gems falling

from the ceiling fan-

fading out. I ignore them.



In my concentration

I’m startled, pen jutting across the page,

ruining the shading of your forearm.



-What are you doing?-

A hand on my wrist,

though soft, like your voice.



-I’m sorry- Why can I only whisper?

You lean up, glance at yourself

on the paper then set it aside, so gently.

Pulling me down with you.



The pillows -huff- as our heads sink

and your arms are so sweet now.



Tap, tap.

On my temple,

a kiss.



-Don’t leave just yet-

with a request my

wandering mind settles

like this body

into you.
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