late nights, love, languor

sir–awake one night–turned on his side
and discovering boy asleep he touched a fingertip to the lips that had blessed (his cock) him hours before, imagining he could perhaps siphon a bit of the nectarlike words from the throat of the slumbering lover he beheld–

finding himself dissatisfied with the puffs of breath he received for his efforts,
he touched all five fingers to boy’s pouting mouth
closed his eyes
whispered a prayer and waited;

feeling disappointment like the rusted anchor of the R.M.S Relation-Ship sinkplungedive into his bottomless breast sir folded his hands beneath him and gathered boy against his side to fall asleep, and

hours stacked themselves on his brow then stirring in his quiet way
boy opened one eye, then. the other;
leaned over and holding sir’s latent fingers to his mouth he pressed a butterfly of kisses to the whorls and lines speaking love and let it fly into sir’s pleasant dreams–
…there its wings met light and spread wide


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