Push Poem by Millie Fraser

It is him who wakes me,
Pushing through my sleep.
Our sliding bodies wrestle together
as into the daylight, we atempt to creep.
Our tongues become hot, in our struggle to speak faster,
Our skin is prickled with a blessed fever
As we wish the hours were longer.
The sky bursts and shrieks
And we shout back until our lungs break.
As the earth spins it swells and the heat drenches us with madness.
We want so much more than we can take.