two pulses ache under silk breast and breeze one mint-lime, lavender, burnt and teary another: heady musk-soaked tomatoes syncopate out of phase tender pulses: triple it, trip, pull it, ratamacue. oh, why me? why not you? two bald questions skipping beats, pulsing through ceaseless aching trembling tongues swollen thick with puce compote, together reveling, beating senseless soft patterns into skin, tendon, muscle.