(no subject)
He beat me to my own game, asked me to yoga.
He invited me to practice at my own gym,
made sure my mat was closed to his
so close I could feel heat coming off his skin.
Or maybe I was flushed
Breathe in, arms up!
Swan-dive down
Jump or step back
Chattoronga
Downward dog
Five breaths here
I can hear his deep
Inhale
And
Exhale
I begin to match mine to his, taking the class at his pace
resisting the urge to find his face, find his eyes,
watch his body contorting next to mine.
How I wish they could contort together.
So I make them as best I can,
following his hands from the corner of my eye.
We wait for each others cue,
switching salutations
he took three of the five,
I took two.
Then
Right leg forward
Come into warrior
As we move in unison I pretend not to look at him,
at his strong back and shoulders in front of me.
Now bring your shoulder to your knee.
Breathe here.
I still hear him breathing.
Over the twenty people in the room,
his breathing.
His life, his strength, all of them so loud.
Can he hear me keeping up?
Stretch that left arm up!
Spinal Twist!
Imagining his lips
My shoulders turn further
Hands to the floor
Jump or step back
Chattoronga
Downward dag
Take child’s pose
In my head a prose poem begins to form,
sprouting little fingers and toes,
a growing heartbeat.
Then he looks at me.
My concentration tumbles,
fumbling what was my baby,
then dropped it
drop down to the ground
and attempt a deep relaxation.
This shit isn’t easy with simulated heart palpitations.
So I close my eyes, think of bunnies and butterflies,
think about the ground pushing against my back,
relaxing my facial expressions.
Was that a good fourth impression?
The answer does not present itself as he walks me home,
the height of our conversation long gone.
He smells his shirt, says the mats smelled like moth balls.
Time stands still as he pushes the elevator button.
Then speeds up to his floor.
*Kiss Kiss* on my cheek, sadly watch the doors slide
to meet one another.
Here my head hangs silently
in prayer.
He invited me to practice at my own gym,
made sure my mat was closed to his
so close I could feel heat coming off his skin.
Or maybe I was flushed
Breathe in, arms up!
Swan-dive down
Jump or step back
Chattoronga
Downward dog
Five breaths here
I can hear his deep
Inhale
And
Exhale
I begin to match mine to his, taking the class at his pace
resisting the urge to find his face, find his eyes,
watch his body contorting next to mine.
How I wish they could contort together.
So I make them as best I can,
following his hands from the corner of my eye.
We wait for each others cue,
switching salutations
he took three of the five,
I took two.
Then
Right leg forward
Come into warrior
As we move in unison I pretend not to look at him,
at his strong back and shoulders in front of me.
Now bring your shoulder to your knee.
Breathe here.
I still hear him breathing.
Over the twenty people in the room,
his breathing.
His life, his strength, all of them so loud.
Can he hear me keeping up?
Stretch that left arm up!
Spinal Twist!
Imagining his lips
My shoulders turn further
Hands to the floor
Jump or step back
Chattoronga
Downward dag
Take child’s pose
In my head a prose poem begins to form,
sprouting little fingers and toes,
a growing heartbeat.
Then he looks at me.
My concentration tumbles,
fumbling what was my baby,
then dropped it
drop down to the ground
and attempt a deep relaxation.
This shit isn’t easy with simulated heart palpitations.
So I close my eyes, think of bunnies and butterflies,
think about the ground pushing against my back,
relaxing my facial expressions.
Was that a good fourth impression?
The answer does not present itself as he walks me home,
the height of our conversation long gone.
He smells his shirt, says the mats smelled like moth balls.
Time stands still as he pushes the elevator button.
Then speeds up to his floor.
*Kiss Kiss* on my cheek, sadly watch the doors slide
to meet one another.
Here my head hangs silently
in prayer.