Onions and weed coat his breath
as he pulls me in for a kiss
that I take hungrily.
I kiss your body like a deer
licking salt from the road.
We keep the nectar we squeezed from the mountain
in a glass jar on our bedside table.
We coat ourselves in it before going to sleep
and lay with our thoughts trapped in our head.
You are like an arched window. Perfect and soft, I say
and you cradle me there.