TUNGSTEN

when my breath slows
my shoulders hang low

we lie in painted boats, white wooden rim
rock back and forth, dip our hands into gold

seeing birds fall
like crushed glass

sand turns to clay
hands soften to ash

tangled laughter and sparkling dimes
we keep our eyes closed, carried by pleasure

sun in our mouths
teeth glinting with treasure

arched towards the sky
our bodies beg to be dragged

we crave the touch of flowering palms
we bathe in the light and melt in the gray