adam, i

i.
in the shower she
felt hours slip.
as the spray draped
lazily about,
her form fluxed
devout.

and her ankle
spiralled
and her spine
became void
and her fingertips
shone.

and none of this
alarmed her.


ii.
that's when he felt
the infinite,
ripping her name
through his cuspids
and why,
why did she sound
far away
yet inside?


iii.
the towel damped
her episode
slightly.
she kept
the dim twist whirring
in her palm as she
wrapped her hair.

the twinge
north of her elbow
spoke in antediluvian tones
and she listened
with a hundredth
of her heart.

in the mirror she
admired her forms.


iv.
his ears were past ringing;
at this point he assumed
he was deaf but
he could see her
every time his pulse
throbbed.


v.
her left arch stung
on hardwood floors
and she found herself
alarmed.

he hadn't perfected his orbit
and was losing his grip
on himself.

in the sunbeams of noon
she rested on her comforter
and focused on the small
of her foot:
"don't worry,"
soft, the whisper
"we're beauty."


vi.
and none of this
alarmed him.