Cerise Posted November 8, 2005 Share Posted November 8, 2005 Song of Songs Tonight your blue blanket slips the edges of your presentation covers all we needed to see and more. And when he pulls the curtains shut on this, your bridal bed, will you still wait for your cue-- the soundless applause of angels-- before he lays you down to sleep prey, keep it in, don't lose this... Tonight there's something odd about the way his hair gleams, the strangeness of his skin and the movement of his limbs. Something fluid and shifting and notquiteright and if you could just see but the curtain is down, is dropped, is shut and shuttered and shuddered in sleep that is like half-awake. And when he settles around your stomach coiled and content and cruel as moonlight, what will you say with his blue blanket in your mouth? What will you say? Comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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