He was hers and his eye sockets throbbed
Like two syncopated hearts.
She took him in, biting into the soft.
Perfectly, she captured his body.
She tasted him, she pressed him.
This was an interrogation.
He was held in the black without a lamp-lawyer
And he blinked to no effect.
The deeper dark of her open ‘O’ searched for answers,
So she sunk down and through him like an anchor.
The wake of her died above.
She wrapped him in sensation.
He filled her completely
And spluttered animal moans to hold her attention.
She found honesty
In the sounds tumbling
From his tongue.
She wanted him to know
That she shared no reminders.
Sometimes, she loved him.
Then, just for her, he burst like a ripe balloon
And shattered every night into dawns.
Luca Goaten Reading Italian poetry in exchange for wine in Edinburgh