Sweat

Full full,

a balloon in a field evergreen.

Roll roll roll,

it goes, it goes.

Roll roll roll, it goes

pop

In bed,

In a college exchange

sheltered from scorching summer days.

The curve of his lips,

smooth, green and refreshing.

The secret war, invasion,

of Mexico on Venezuela.

"Mira como vuelan"

would Homero say to his suegra.

Royal,

they flutter in an amber glide.

Circumventing,

the diameter of my diaphragm.

A sip,

a drink,

we slip

but we never forget to slide it in.

It's a song with sweet teeth.

It's the shine of eyelids.

They mark the rhythm

of our laughs, our screams,

and everything

far in between.

I may snicker and whimper,

twist and stay,

yet the mark of your veins,

wet and tightly knit

on my canvas,

will continue being

a trace

of our infinite foray.