i like to take up your name

and twirl it in my fingertips,
nails clicking over the consonants
and smoothing the vowels
to a dull sheen, a drowsy glow
mildly iridescent in the light from my eyes
as i lift it and lay it along my tongue
from tip to surrounding teeth,
close my lips– i don’t swallow,
not at first– and caress the letters
against my palate
until it is almost insensate with the pleasure
of your identity,
your existence,
with you;

i shiver, i shudder, i savor–
i swallow.

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