How we wantoned ourselves away
on each other,
eagerly gulping down every morsel,
we never even tasted them.
We prised apart our sea urchin hearts
and spoon fed each other the delicate flesh,
licking the salt from our lips.
We spoke of love with larks tongues,
singing the chorus over and over.
Now we find ourselves here,
dry mouthed in the dark, the salt stinging our eyes,
unsated, spent, consumed by love.
And the lark sings her heart out, over and over.
Impotent thunder rumbles, increasingly distant.
Mud cracks in a hundred places and we breathe in dust.
We wait, hungry for the storm to break.