Look! behind curtains is a smell of a shadow
my chair in the corner is fading from its arms

I can see your loins bursting from three quarters
tiny hairs sprouting; why are you cuddling silently?

our life passes through words about your growing
body brushes me, a trove of wild embracing

your head rests on my chest for conviction
and expectations of touch are like small tears

I wipe carefully when you repeat too much
silence rocks me, you smile instead of language.