It’s a strange loop.
I like the way you like
The way I like how you look at me.
The fugue intensifying until my ears are ringing
And your eyes are dark and distant.
Somehow, I have been distracting you.
At a volume you describe as ‘cacophonous’
When the only sound is your thumb drumming on my ankle.
You leave the room, and I want you more.
Suddenly I am back at the beginning of this
Mobius strip that I have been treading,
Hoping, futilely, that if I walk it carefully enough
I will end up somewhere new.
Maybe I would step off onto that Good Earth
(different than yours, I know)
Housed behind the event horizon of some imploding star
Like the one that sits quietly in my chest while I cry myself to sleep.
Or the one that steals all the light from your eyes which are
Just across the couch (the bed, the console)
A million light-years away,
Silent.
The feedback is ear-splitting.
that arm
The stretch of that arm
muscle, shoulder, back
flesh
slips
beneath my hands
this texture
i can’t describe
your skin.
muscle, shoulder, back
flesh
slips
beneath my hands
this texture
i can’t describe
your skin.
That smell, not soap
in my hair
those hands grasp
objects and my fingers
with purpose and delicacy
respectfully
you open the door
in my hair
those hands grasp
objects and my fingers
with purpose and delicacy
respectfully
you open the door
and i enter.
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