Another Skeleton in the Closet

Skeletons march from the closet door,
slip under sheets, crawl between bare bodies.
Cool bones click against cool bones;
the skeleton hands strip her skin,
peel her flesh,
leave it like excited clothing
discarded on the floor.
Now her cold, skeleton fingers lose grip,
her breathless bones abandon our embrace,
she slides out of bed
and click-clacks away with her skeleton sisters.