I will not love the dead (1/2 Marathon, Hour Ten)

I will not love the dead

I can almost feel
The anticipation of every loc
Between my thighs
Framing both sides of my face from above
Rippling over my arm in sleep
Running through my fingers

I have not wanted like this

I can almost see
The thought of every finger
Knowing me
From head top to feet bottom
Deep inside of wet and warm
Curving with my back into hips and thighs

I have not waited like this

I can almost taste
The desire of every kiss
Parting my lips (and my lips)
Tasting my tongue
Loving my forehead
Etching your name

I have not wondered like this

I cannot want I cannot wait I cannot wonder
I will not love your ghost

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