Deep in the recesses of my lover’s soft covers
We lie still and sweat-damp, peach soap smelling
My lover’s pale blue eyes bat, and it hits me like one, too
I’m being dripped with hot wax kisses that cool and stick
It flushes us both
Lover traces desire paths into my skin, fingernails neatly trimmed
I remember sucking them into my mouth, tasting a work of the flesh
Orpheus and his turtle-shell lyre, meet my lover and my lover’s fingers

Elliot Brodeur (She/They) is a queer poet located in Vermont. She’s scared of large crowds, a lover of knit sweaters, and displays a stunning lack of awareness over how loud she’s talking. They’re featured in Metachrosis Literary, Troublemaker Firestarter, and Bodyfluids. They can also be found shit-posting on twitter at @tigersateyourmom
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