unentitled
Your tiny breath twitches my inner ear
and opens my eyes to the ceiling before
dawn.
Again: a secret intake.
Uncurling with interest
before the smile reaches my mind,
I roll my head to watch you dream.
Naked, pale, every glowing hair alert
in the loom of our yellow streetlight:
you are quivering.
Brushing a nipple with the heel of your
slow hand;
arching; teeth shining as you bite the air,
once:
you are building.
Who are you with?
A sudden halt.
Did you hear me think?
A pulse in your throat,
your throat, your throat.
A ripple in your abdomen
and you are back in motion.
Oh, love, you are so beautiful
and I want you so bad it hurts
but, love: this is yours, not mine.
Raising your bone shining knees,
pressed together tight, and hold,
and shudder, and breathe, and
in the instant before recognition,
before you come back to me,
I see a stranger’s stare
and I know.
