I am the revelation

I hug her waist, I shrug off her shoulders.

Her bosom I tease, her legs I release.

I flow back, I feel bad but I look good.

I feel good on her, I know she has hugged the sick (the safe memory reverbs between her busy child-bearing hips and sacrificing voice; echoing in between my fibers, long lost, still in frame)

I feel her stomach coiling and

Twisting

Undeniably, my daring, silk skin has been your shield.

Gurgling/ashen tears that wilted like a dried carcass, a worming fruit, a plum that has been reached perfect in it’s summer’s bearing heat-

Scorched within earth, wrought in a bloody, hellish female grip

laconic, I gave her silent medicine, a salve to her broken up grief in a silken splendor.