We left the window open
to let the warm night in-
flannel (dusk's grey cloak)
billows through our seamless skin.
Filled our ears, flocks of bird,
beat wings in unison,
rhythm of its frantic feather
stirs heated wind.
Gleaming of our linen sheets,
moon, a yellow sapphire,
dug from bed or veins, ignites
a slow and rising fire.
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