the tryst

amidst these boxes, stacked and labeled--
things owned and quietly forgotten;
amidst these dingy walls and forlorn floors,
and cobwebs gingerly hanging

we jostle and tumble, hungry and heaving--
thigh slide on thigh, hurried and clamping;
dribbling shallow breaths, back and forth
back and forth; yours to mine, mine to yours

tongues grope, thrust and flick,
eyelids fluttering quick;
backs arch, and buttocks glide,
bee stings blossom on backsides

we rise and ebb with the flood of our sweat,
rolling ruggedly on the dust carpet
of the stone-cold floor, as we fall asleep
caked with mud, as midnight creeps.