Incense

Inside the Metaphysical cafe
buying incense for late night fuck sessions
where our bodies make shadows
on the wall in the candlelight
and the neighbors in the building across the way
think that we are making shadow puppets
of elder gods and Shiva

as they sip chardonnay paired expertly
with cheese I wouldn’t be able to afford anyway.

I crack a book
and prop it between your shoulder blades
while you doze with your head on your hands
and whistle the tune that plays through the speakers.

I trace the words on the page
with one finger
and run the other hand down your spine.

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