Observatory

I want to
lick the sex
from your face
before falling
back and counting
stars on a bedroom ceiling

ceilings are illusions,
love,

everything has become
an illusion since
your fingers slid
up my skirt

everything except you
and the view of the night sky

And I can see
both clearly
from where
I’m draped
across your body,
your heartbeat
increasing across
my cheek
as my hand
curls around you,

illuminated by a
grand darkness
and the
 
truth
of
stars
falling
around
our

entwined bodies