I push people away
as they pushed away from me when I first learned
that’s what people do
so run ahead and do it first
you might tell them your real age, or show them the scars in your skin, that usually does it
with online trolls who really only want a
mirror little narcissist
you might show them your face and all the welts that
lay invisible and divisible like trails of tears
finding only drought
you might reveal your defeats and play join the dots
with stories for each one and then you may
know me just a little
except I don’t want to be known and even as I write
I remain anonymous to myself
the perpetuation of a dream instead
where we dance sweaty and disordered with our hair
collapsed like flamenco skirts in rivers of ruffles
two people with thick manes and thin skin
I taste blood on your lower lip and the depth of it
makes a vampire of me
your pulsing neck is salty from your keening
we interlace our hands like church mice and bad girls and best friends and artful dodgers
I feel your fingers pulsing within me as together we cleave
so much comes from a body who wants and so little from one who does not
when I see you, I want to close my eyes and hold onto the image
how you stand, the light caressing your flawless skin as
oil might run her rivets down your elongation
If choice were a bird, I’d choose you again
And once more, with the release of my lips from yours
A song passed between mouths like a key
Open my heart, keep yourself there
If choice were a thought, I’d choose you again
And once more, with the capture of your ebony and ivory
You, who is seamstress to my soul, play your flute
I hear it behind my eyes in the vault of my trust
If you were a dream I should better wish to wake
Our drowsy love may keep us drugged by its tempest
Sleeping in the passion of your touch
As sun sets and night becomes us
What you don’t know, can’t know, won’t know