words by dominic riccitello

to write without words
he sips his pinot noir
i rock back and to
when daze sought us too
to bask in roses
with guarded thorns
i brush against his legs
things he loved
but guards descend
we transcend
thorns begin to rip
to drown in a blood bath 
how we enticed our mazes
yesterday killed to come
before we had hands to hold
i kissed your thigh
you caressed my neck
we bit with solid edges
holding our senses
expressing without pages
water under the bridge
we danced with imperfection