I lie
alone
in the pitch
& my ears are on fire,
my body burns,
itches with unspoken desire.

Do you burn my effigy
alone
in your own room,
lying there on fire
as well,
spilling yourself
onto dreamy-thoughts
of granite.

And as  the minutes tick away,
you swell inside your heart
grasping my stone likeness,
kissing my form
in the darkness,
embracing a new day
in sheer ecstasy.

We are not token.