Recuse

you will never know
the touch of my cool hand 
on your fevered cheek

you will never know
the press of my soft hips
against your hard belly

you will never know
the salt of my tears
on your hungry tongue

you will never know
the strength of my fingers
knotted fast into yours

you will never know
the reflection of your truest self
from the black mirrors of my eyes

she whispered
these things
lying on her side
curled like a fist 
around a cobra

he did not hear
full as he was
of other voices

he did not care
empty as he was
of all their
            dreams


©sdrogers 30 march 2014