Untitled

It was late and we were
past the curfews and contract and
promises and still talking
somehow and exhausted
but there was still
the mouth and the words and
the rhythm of the hands and
we gathered thoughts like rabbits
as they ran away all-footed
to someplace dark and dug below
to hide and perhaps to multiply
and I wanted to write it
on skin and to write it
to tell myself
to remember the phrase