pink notes

3

the wireless internet drops, the journey's

pulse is smaller with a night light

and a book, we're snug and spooned, and

sex is rocked, arched, in a small bed

where bodies find no better place to hide

4

a mountain doesn't wake beneath each

varied sky, and, though, the rocky mounds

shape lips, today, Sleeping Beauty lies

unmoved by myth, or image, that

rocks are somehow kissing clouds