Pushed against the ragged edge

between silk and  flesh,

I am damp--disheveled .

The fan pulses

freezes skin--

A static moment

In a bedside mirror: hips

crushed together,

your back arched, breasts spring

toward the sky.  Dark gleaming

red tipped circles, point out

star clusters like some orgasmic

calendar.  I slip between days,

explore lost moments,

until time bends into a loop

and scatters me like ash

over your wet skin.