My Shipwreck

Wake-up sex

held close to a neck;

I dreamt my shipwreck.

 

Kissed, but

chapped—a forgone

conclusion.

 

To bruise you,

sleeping—such

polished things

we say

on the weekends.

 

The sheer

immediacy

of us

held

close.

 

It bleeds

my dreams—

I’m yours.

 

So weak,

a wreck—

I’m yours.

 

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