retreat


Moving again
through doors onto streets, where
cold stars retreat
as we slide
marbly arms and hide
it all,  
small
faces in the morning
all held up smiles, muscles working ever so
sweetface
to put a pause in my place.
Indoors
out now curtains weather,
calls me sweet but
again,
to scrutinise a nagging heat,
the muttering balmy sheets of
woven
hot bodies hiding
sink down soundings
rewinding
back to ground to bring about
in
my sweet face-
a question?