Your Body only insinuates the Distance, the Threat. What is it, that you give Away—[?] In my Mouth, you break it open, again & again. Thus, my Mouth, your Body, a berating of Hunger, in Tones tunneling inside, through the one Moan, unraveling. In the End, it drowns in Fingers, what is Clenched, your Hair, the Tone, *this Bone.
