you,
thorn in my rib and
absorbed in my
fascia,
sharp in the introduction
but dull  once picked.
you tickle my spine
without bloodshed
but left a trail of detritus
for me to pick through.
for me to sift.
find what’s yours,
what’s ours,
find it somewhere.

me, I sink into your elbow,
lips a bobbing knife;
seasoned and slow,
blunt but steady,
cutting deeper with each
grin.
I am patient,
learn the swerve
of each artery.
lick your neck.
lick your fingers.
cut you open
with each flick.

we are curved into each
other    two indolent
house cats striped with ribbons
of the other.
trimmed claws but
voracious and reaching
cautious with each lunge,
each obstructed mile
in our separate paved
jungles,
tame and
crouching.
tame but
longing and
finding what is
us.

us, scratching
at each other’s scabs
to remember how to
hunt.

“us”