Inchoate

My existence in you

With a clairvoyant salute
of shadow hands

She grins
behind your closed mouth
Enjoying the sensation
of tongue to tongue

My existence in you
A brightening
of encircled edges
Bundled into cellophane letters
Pink tiptoeing
the rhythm
of your lonely walk

Unable to see
your wounded eyes
she wont run

Obscure to herself
In the glowing church
of your skull
undressed
in tomorrow’s memory
She climbs atop the altar
in a camisole of flowers

My existence in you
has promised conjugal visits
I also
love this shining likeness
of myself