The Second Option Poem by Alison Rosalie

sink to a sleeping pose:
body shivers slightly on cool acrylic,
forcing hesitant gasps to relax,
telling inconsistent patchy panting to settle,
to respire serenely like something with a soul,
something sanely human..
then the waiting warmth runs downwards,
pooling anxiously, melting slowly over prickled skin,
rising, hesitant, while each breath is measured, to be sure.
shivering in steam as it traces its way over Me;
slithering slowly upwards, tickling a little, like
the groping hands of trapped spirits, smiling
while they sink in the Fifth circle.