When First I Trusted You

 

 

Laying there against my flesh

The shape and texture of a fantasy

Pressing full against my skin...

I welcome first the vision...

Then the touch...

And feel it enter in

 

It is not like a piece of glass,

Not like the burn of acid's touch;

Nor like the cold and driven rain...

But...as it pulls from out of me

In measured, slow, assurity...

Words cannot tell the pain