Two letters
written by Tobie Abad

Like water she sinks
teeth into flesh; whites
kissing brown without drawing blood.

His voice: passion against pain
and she smiles- a cresent against the starless sky.

I wonder sometimes- as i watch
the two dance on
silk that is their bed -
could this be real.

She,
supple like a mother
whose child is to be born -
yet slender, like a lover.

He,
grafted from stone
without cracks brought by time -
yet tender, like ripe fruit.

Both taste open palms
against cheeks and draw lines
on flesh with sharp fingers

yet when the night ends
they clash tongues
to trade kisses that they keep
beneath each one's tongue.