let the wound form lips and sing some sole mio song

at last my chance to touch the dark
mottle of your face
preceding what could be
one perfect moment of detention

you said we had to be in the zone
but we’ve never been in the zone
you said you felt you were disappearing
it was true

your halo negative
your last thoughts
leaking into night
so this

is my last chance to touch you
because I can’t remember
what you felt like

we skinny dipped three days ago
slid to the coral
stayed down too long
out of the sun

now no breath bubbles
the telepathic crackle
between our heads is faint
and awkwardly tangled in tango