words by dominic riccitello

i miss the moon
outside my window
your hands in my grasp
the rough in your neck
we sway
under the light
the darkness shines
i hold you tight
we succumb
rolling in our past
loving the black
feeling the ground
i take your pulse
your lovely
crush it with my palms
we spin
i feel you tingle
from your toes to your fingers
i hold you
without touch
a simple emotion
we lust
i hide
in your shout
leaving a sour taste
in your mouth