small things?

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She takes me inside her places
Into family and memory
Between her breasts
Warm cushions to catch the falling

If the sound of screens metal or plastic
Are familiar to you. The winged things
Bees on occasion, a hummingbird, mosquitoes
Are they inside or out
The brown bat, causing hysterics in that love

Covers that can be pulled way up
Way way up, over eyes and fear
Compliments of arms, strong
Strong words, the always movement
Of thighs mesh, scissor flesh to flesh

Sharpening against each other
We hone a place for the moment

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