When Lying Next To You, Dimly

I reach through the unexplained
ether to feel the warmth at your

breath, to rouse the skin at your hips. My
fingers search along your ridges, gently

collect your seedlings. Your root’s hardened
tips corkscrew into my bones, feed

on my marrow. Sprouts hang from the roofs
of every digit, their jagged tributaries strung through

my flesh like power lines. You flower in spirals
at my fingertips, and now everything I touch tells of you.


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