Tonight

I dared to crawl

beneath the sheets

to be nailed down

around me,

waiting for my lover, she

who enters

without knocking, she

who will unstitch

my every seam

along my thigh,

my side, my armpit.

She who carves

a heart out of the heart

and drops it

down her throat.

Sweet surrender this

slow death in sleep

as I dream

the love-making

is autopsy. How else

will I be hers

completely? Be her

treasure box I said:

a trove of pearls

and stones, the ding

of coins cascading

through her fingers.

The bird over her shoulder

not a parrot, but an owl

to be my mirror

when I close my eyes

and shape a moon-white

bowl out of my face

where she can wash

the hooks of her caress.

Rigoberto González on #musestr