Dear Lover,
you
wore red
cherry red
like sex pierced
in a proper bed
denim
slim
that fit fine
the clean lines
of lean thighs
you
leaned in
to make a whisper
something sacred
something secret
in
my ear
dying swan
my holy name
your last song
cherry
red
denim torn
holding close
the smell of warm
sex
pierced
a proper bed
fresh leather
cherry red