Friday, August 1, 2014

I walk and you are with me

That day in particular 
I remember it was unbelievably hot
I almost swatted a fly against my ear
And my skin was the kind of dry every scratch marred me with chalk white lines on my calves
I was thinking about the wet centre of your mouth 
And that my favourite kind of poetry centered on a reckless coming undone where the only shred of control was the hesitation before the searing rip of buttons
I kicked a can and it rolled with an almost sensual tinkling as it hit a lamppost a tock
Tick, tick, tick,
Plastic buttons fall
to the floor rolling off in different directions 
You, on the other hand,
The perfect epitome of purposeful you sank the only southern way you know how to
And I grip the table's edge
Knuckles white
Lights dancing in my vision even whiter 
Oh, how this body only knows rhythm when it is fed to me through your lips
How the only time I am moved is when you wreak havoc on my nervous system
There are whole nations in your chest cavity 
Where I am stumbling blind quite honestly 

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