Wonderful Sex

I do not pretend.
I am the end of end.
I am the cover and closed
we are held in place
to be discovered.
There is more to know
in this, the edge.

We are ghosts
in a virtual room
but ghosts live

Words live longer
than movements
of letters on glass

In the margin
I watch music strip
naked  to gather
in beds of our fuck;
I play my flute
I am your notes.

Here you make love
I feel your hands close.
on your pale skin.
to anticipate end.

I am your voyeur 
in the mirror; my eyes
are yours blinded
by release; I am
voyeur in the signs
written down in 
magenta- pink lipstick
on underside of thighs.

I am your lovely skin
I do not pretend.