Window Screen

I must’ve licked clean her wine-stained teeth.

Our tongues were warm scallop meat,

our mouths finally shucked,

and together we summoned

the brine of the sea.

 

That night, something took us in our sleep.

 

We awoke as husks

frail

and

empty,

and the room was cold

with a stillness in the air

as morning winds slapped the window screen outside.

 

We lay in bed

face to face

in silent study of each other’s eyes.

 

We’d been so alive the night before,

but sometime in the hours since,

something in us had died.

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