Only for a moment

Sometimes I wonder if my mind will snap

I fear it

…that thinking about you for more than a second

will stretch the rope of my togetherness like elastic

taut

pulled in separate directions until…

I suck the tip of my thumb where it stung

from the sharp flick of truth

and promptly

without question

turn my head to watch the endirted sheets on the line.

Just a little

You make what is love to you to me

but I don’t want the lingering look

heavy lashed side glances

laden breath from laid-on emotion

I want the rise and fall

the slippery when wet

the grit and grind of

we’re-almost-past-tense

a heady fuck of a fuck.

It ain’t that I ain’t a lady

nor that I’m-just-not-that-into-you crap

neither it be because of

a natural inclination to piss you off.

And don’t mistake this intent

as reminiscent of past embraces

that damaged these goods

cos these goods still be goodies

I just want the south

want for my blood to rush

the hardening of body

the obliteration of the soft

this body is used, not abused,

so treat it like one

take the gloves off

learn my safe word

and have me scream it.

Second

It’s a different kind of tangible now

this real, this unreal.

The first year was a year of firsts,

all sore and pulpy at the wounds,

but now,

now seconds fill shadows and the gaps between breaths

it is going to be the second of everything,

it is going to be harder to wash over

a solid lump of clay in my throat

waiting to be swallowed

when all I want is to spit it out

and see it grow, form, be something else that’s other.

I was the first to have the first

now the first to have the second and the salt

that sits between jaw and bone

itches my teeth and tingles my mouth

a salty knowing I dare not allow to saline my words.

Wounds have not healed

just hidden beneath growing moss

and stone laid purposefully

a rock I do not wish to lift but is lifting anyway.

Unbitten lips know they are not to utter words

formed in the false memory

whose tongue I have clenched tight

to protect my ears from hearing

the words that ring in my head daily

and whose bells I muffle with great effort

with being good at refusing to listen.