so this is the wet place
glued to the bed face
a ghost of what’s-just-left space
the heft, swirl & mesh taste

it isn’t held to rhyme,
more to crawl the length
and sense, sense, sense
the where to, what next, wow bit,
tuning in, burning-smelt and spat,
welding & whelping
in core expanse
with anything but
clutch-control,
just
breath
inspect
beg
invest

and after
liqui-lusted
last-run-loved,
all rent
spent
replete,
we laugh with
my, my, amazement
live, instead of
not

© Gary Studley