Sometimes
The intense silence
Is not do-able
And yet
There's no attempt made
At breaking it
--
Sometimes, my unheard cries
Are whispered in a soft voice
But then, a not unknown sound
Is breaking my bones
And afterwards
The smell of passion, anger
Love? - is pitched
Into my nose
Makes it hard to breathe
His hands on my shoulders,
His lips on my cheek
His hands on my back,
His lips in my neck
"That'll do."
Love
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