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Behrle (11)

Jim Behrle
You

Deep red traces against
ssssssssssshoulders, crimson to freckles
sssssssssssssssssssseyelids sink to squints.

moon orange follows
sssssssssswalks your islands.
ssssssssssssssssssssdistant, summer-heavy.

what hangs hotly here:
ssssssssssyou-touch wraiths
ssssssssssssssssssssshadow arms drift to ceiling.

never close.
ssssssssssnot mine, now and never.
ssssssssssssssssssssme, auditioning for sleep.

cold bedroom window breath.
ssssssssssfan unplugged, blades yet cutting
sssssssssssssssssssscircles, from habit.

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