the lovers are weeping inside

[BenjaminShaw]

The lovers are
Weeping inside,
Lying upon satin sheets,
Ruffled and undone;
It’s a clean spring night,
The dew on the grass relaxes,
The toads croak,
Far off.
They glow like two bulbs,
Pale in the new moon.
The lovers are young,
They’re bodies are supple.
Their eyes refuse
Stripping themselves, each other.
The sharing of flesh is
Unknown to them,
Black curling hair,
Imperfect,
Various flaws
Show themselves.
Brownish marks on the skin,
Layers.
Awkward, worried
Their aims unselfish;
He touches her forehead,
Sweating.
Her body flattens,
He hides himself.
A doorway,
Opening,
Slithering,
Exploring.
The lovers are
Weeping inside.