The Lottery of Random Collisions
THE LOTTERY OF RANDOM COLLISIONS
Leaving for work, I trace the bite marks
you have left upon my skin.
They will fade, but invisibility
does not demand evidence, does it?
I watch the hesitating rain;
thunder distances the moment
from the routine.
The electricity between us -
once touched, proves to be Life.
Sure, swans mate for life,
but we are rarely so lucky
that we meet the right match;
fit the key in the lock,
solve the puzzle at the heart of it,
succeeded in the lottery
of random collisions.
And so your kisses touch me,
collecting my tears
as spoils of war, or trophies,
Nibbling your way along my inner arms
until your tongue finds my silvered spot.
Am I more than a man in love,
a wretch lying shivering in want of touch?
How did you know to do that to me?
My motives are salvation enough,
your comfort is worth all to me.
I would drink of love's wine
and worry about the worms another time.
After all, bite marks fade.
©2010 Christopher Reilley
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