accident

we go to bed drunk on ten dollar wine
its purple grime encrusted on our skin
like scabs.....and the sheets are layers of thin
scar tissue between us.....there is a line
like a membrane dividing the sublime
from chaos.....and our contours are the grim
ambivalence between them.....we lie in
the shadows of a gap that doesn't widen

under night's white eye.....furtive through the blinds
as your fingers in my hair.....hand beneath
my head as you begin your swell and arc
against me.....our bodies hasty.....entwined
like a seam we'll rip open with our teeth
when the moon looks away and the room goes dark