Don’t Be So Porous, James

We picked each other apart for skin…

 

In slabs O light, your face beat back at me—

Freckle hot and lovely as only you can be.

 

Thirsty under my clothes. Stomping dirty feet in puddles under doors.

Holding my breath for too long, I stagger around my room, looking for corners and holes that might keep me.

 

This heart of mine, it rides. It is left now in glove compartments, cast aside—

Like directions to a girl’s house, I once used to drive.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s