Day 133

May 13, 2022

I want a Leica and a Turtle Garden

My skin tightens soft and warm

content with the feel of my own hands.

Your eyes hard and dark

content with the feel of your own heart.

My heart's not content with just

the feel of my own cold hands.

Nor warmed by another's dark eyes

edged by a chisel and awl

I moan for your length, your hands

but flinch from the feel of your heart.