the softest dedication

the heat is the last to leave.

by dawn i am swollen with absent lover dreamings. tangled sheets are the only remnant of pleasures past. nocturnal crescendos receeding into the distance betwen here and there.

i trace fibre optic cables until i find you on the verge of my imaginings. a steady lapping like sand on salt, like skin on skin, sky on stars, like night on day.

this is how my heart rests, with all it's palpatations. if words fail me it is only because i am reaching into that place of unknowing, where mystery births divinity and we transcend mortality and morality.