Fantasy

 You hold melike a book: turning pagessearching image hoping for a glanceI can’t reveal. The clock ticks onit’s midnight now we talk on superhighwaypeeling skin for bone, my pages thin& fragile crushed to dustby other loves. You’re searchingfor a meaning the hollow of yourheart bleeds desire & I fly out of printconfounded by the satiresold as love. You hold melike a book I lean to cataloguethe moment. Chapter headingfull stop. End of linehidden in your beautifulblack eyes.