Esme

Where do we hope to be, our bodies twist and groan, dancing's never easy, silk worms in cemetery's glow, resist any combing, furious as a curate's throw, then you my lover seize, this time to make scones, our house behind the sea, we swore we'd never moan, on Sundays to live alone, sunlight shifts the room, how beautiful and so lovely, your neck smooth as stone, when my torso pulls free, will you help me grow, your face by the water, somewhere far from home, tell me all you know ?