full

Photo by James Wheeler on Unsplash

this opening is a bloom

a soft cut, weeping.

an enfolding that takes

the tension of tending

a consistent orbit

—

ellipses around your center

the ministration of fingertips

to lips

to skin

electric liquid

in our veins

—

moss breathes

exhales heat

what holds in the moonlight

anchored into ourselves

safe haven

prison imagination

—

over and over

acknowledging overwhelm

overflow

into every fissure

fullness

—

freezes me in my tracks

flood of brilliance

help me drink

you

amrita

—

bathe me

in pleasure

incrementally.