curtains, torn from the window, languished in the corner like exorcised ghosts

her makeup had been washed clean a sunset ago by hours of honest labor

and the last of her lipstick covered his body in a crimson palimpsest

the smell of their voracious mammalian need permeated the room

for when he made her come it was like peeling open her soul

like kicking in the door of a cathedral made of diamonds

he removed the stitches of her life-sutured lips

to hear her talk of the futures she’d seen

and all the pasts she had fled

playing with the hair on his chest

as his hands moved to caress soft wet skin

and squeeze her ample and unembarrassed curves

he listened to every word with meaningful, subjunctive eyes

and fed her peaches and chocolate and strawberries soaked in honey

and his own lips parted to speak in that other, more pragmatic tongue

drowning all her skittering thoughts in a shimmering cascade of bliss

flooding the catacombs of a body which had gone so long untenanted

flushing out the sediment of her previous, more deciduous passions

and her mouth opened softly to release truths beyond intelligibility

dreams of her youth knitting themselves up like broken bones

while they were engulfed in the rubble of their lust

and buried beneath the shattered beams of

nightmares blown apart by

the ordnance of

their love