damn baryshnikov

at most six hours have tangled in my hair
and though my memory is utter shit
i can still pinpoint the exact positions of:

my chair
your hipbone
the slant of sun that flecked your darkness
(you put a cullen to shame)

the swath of grass grudgingly green
before us and

inside me, the noose that hung taut,
choking blessedly the need to touch you
that made my hands shake–

and i smiled and i witted and i laughed
i screamed and i thrashed and i why did you leave me?’d

and then you left,
and life resumed.


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 )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ 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 )

Connecting to %s