The art of not fucking.

I love to sleep
                The sleep of love
                               With you.

Love makes us
Drowsy

Our smaller hands
        Smaller bodies

Night rushes
Into the arms of my lover
                 The back of her mind
                  The length of her spine

Rhythm of slight movements
Drunk on red wine

Love blooms
In sucking scars
Of each others bodies

Softening the harshness
Under the covers

Alternate longings
Half belongings

Exchanging
The art of fucking
For
The art of
Sensual longing.

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