alone, in the dark, like a worm
my darkness soft around me
in the winter's downy glow,
the solitude unfurling
as a leaf through powdered snow,
i sink into the sediment
of fabrics spun from thought,
dance hands across my body
in a rite the years have wrought.
i know the spots to touch my skin,
and just what pace to go.
i feel no need to make a sound,
for i already know.
an altar to my comfort born from
blankets, flesh and bone,
i find my greatest pleasure
left tangentially alone.












