Oxblood - Ed Tullett

In oxblood on my coat

The plenty on the side

Spill awnings stay afloat

The cavernous abide

The blurring of your throat

Still caving half your eyes

An aviary in notes

A keeling in your thighs

That evening I was prone

Lost sycophantic pride

Appealing to your bones

A reeling in your side

The canter to atone

The canter to atone

A fawning by design

But via alone

And ultimate resign

Ivory along

Suscitated tongue

I had palms that sung

I had palms that stung