January: | 1 |
We settle in row P-Q fiction. | 2 |
Shoulder blades interlock with book-ends | 3 |
and torn covers; leave groves in backs, | 4 |
melted ink on forearms. | 5 |
Drifters grimace at your ravenous hands. | 6 |
Shameless, you munch my lips before them. | 7 |
| |
You clutch tighter than predicted | 8 |
between my parted knees. | 9 |
Newness flounces;cling-free jersey knit | 10 |
pulled tight over my hips. | 11 |
You, a shadow | 12 |
probe me (untouched) deeper, | 13 |
etching phantoms across my ribs, | 14 |
hives up my neck. | 15 |
Sweat rolls off your temple | 16 |
clammy on my collarbone, | 17 |
beads down my back | 18 |
sending shivers through my teal silhouette. | 19 |
Your residue in penmanship scattered along my thighs. | 20 |
| |
So troubled, | 21 |
we ignite our confusion in thrusts and fingertip kisses. | 22 |
I folded deep within the seams of myself | 23 |
emotionless, sanitizing my absence. | 24 |
You never reached me. | 25 |
| |
Opposite the parking structure | 26 |
two women eat their noodles over our movements. | 27 |