(no subject)
kissing the back of your neck, once, slowly
whispering to you in church, my breath warming your ear, my knee leaning into your leg
it was ash wednesday; I stood in front of you in that line, waiting for the priest to draw the cross on my forehead (I think he hesitated before marking me -- did he know? -that I had no intention of purging my sins, that I would sin again that same night with you, that our crosses would be smeared off by the end of the night in sweat?)
I could tell you were bothered when the lady in the chinese take out thought you were my father, but I was secretly aroused. we pretended it didn't happen, never mentioned it. you were quiet in the car.
I still feel you sometimes before I fall asleep- a tenderness in the belly, a pressure behind the ribs (means you're close)
a phantom expectation that your car will pull up when I look out the front window; standing on my porch for hours in the moonlight, straining to listen, projecting my spirit, still tethered to this rift
does she draw your baths now? does she trace your shoulders lovingly with the washcloth? do you pull her into the tub with you? does she hold your hand tight when she comes?
whispering to you in church, my breath warming your ear, my knee leaning into your leg
it was ash wednesday; I stood in front of you in that line, waiting for the priest to draw the cross on my forehead (I think he hesitated before marking me -- did he know? -that I had no intention of purging my sins, that I would sin again that same night with you, that our crosses would be smeared off by the end of the night in sweat?)
I could tell you were bothered when the lady in the chinese take out thought you were my father, but I was secretly aroused. we pretended it didn't happen, never mentioned it. you were quiet in the car.
I still feel you sometimes before I fall asleep- a tenderness in the belly, a pressure behind the ribs (means you're close)
a phantom expectation that your car will pull up when I look out the front window; standing on my porch for hours in the moonlight, straining to listen, projecting my spirit, still tethered to this rift
does she draw your baths now? does she trace your shoulders lovingly with the washcloth? do you pull her into the tub with you? does she hold your hand tight when she comes?
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