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lux
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night before last:
i got to the corner early.
grabbed a beer. played "roxanne"
by myself.
half the bottle gone
before i got to the chorus.
i gulped.
black girls to my left yelled
at each other, laughed loud. my nerves exposed, i had to move.
migratory dance
to the north side, under the pbr sign
where that girl sat that one time,
where we exchanged gifts
(ornamental disappointment)
near where shannon and i screwed
on one of the booth seats
that's no longer there.
i've watched the evolution of this place.
my anxiety spiked. i pulled out
two red pens and wove
the lid of an eye
around newsletter babble.
s sat down with me, we talked,
we drank, we drank, the beers flowed.
some semblance of an excuse:
"you have to see my record
collection!"
and next thing i know
we're at my place, i'm painting
on the back of a hand, smoke curling
around the porch and burning
the hairs in my nose.
we talked,
we drank, we drank...
i'm being kissed.
so gentle, so sweet.
confident sarcasm collapsed
into one soft kiss...
what is it about s
that makes my body tingle?
it's not just any person;
if it was, ash and i would have
tumbled - no, not ash. not just
any person.
why this one? why now?
making me wetter than i've been in years, maybe it was the gentleness,
the not being fucked, maybe i felt
i was in charge for once.
maybe s is in love with me -
just as
scared
as i am.
it's like a punch to the face.
fingertips dip into my wetness.
unencumbered pleasure encompasses me.
i slept only a few hours.
read my book, pencil in hand,
trying to stay quiet.
we took the nice car
and headed to the shoreline...
sky as grey as mold,
sea birds chatter on
about dead things they've digested.
i wanted to be horizontal again,
but we had other worries.
the trip was brief, the drive perfect:
pastel rainbows of houses
blanketing the hillside
like teeth.
my hands ran through long red hair,
tangled from beachy wind. a hand
on my knee. kiss on neck, that spot
right under the earlobe:
"you're giving me goosebumps."
"we're in trouble."
i have two weeks for trouble.
(and then
what?)
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120816
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