Thinly Sliced Meat

(Thinly Sliced Meat And Robust Soul)
((or, faking dreams and nightmares))

Our windows are painted shut
Only shadows drift on the panes
Outside looking for life within

to luck upon finger tips smoothing
breast above single nipple barely exposed
rounding, fleshing the image till now
resting, rising with your lungs through
horizontal slats, a slit inline with your bath

we have sensed each others bones
shared the tender pork suspiciously
glared over rims whet with white wine
goblet smashing
against the galling stones

eventual sense takes hold
our ripcords snap
we emerge unscathed
holding hands, drenched in applause