after his
eyes sting,
charred coal. And
the sweep of his
thighs, his left leg
and my right leg
slide out and then
back again. My
weight meeting his
weight after my
skin knows his skin.
I swivel my hips
after he bends me
back farther than I
think I could go.
The scent of his body
floods like the violins,
the small drums.
After I circle his
rotation center of
gravity, the dark
room a swirl of
black silk and nylon,
we swivel and slide.
My leg hooks his
calf, my foot playfully
glides up and down
his leg and I move
across his ankle. He
moves to kick
under his thigh. How
close move and moan
are. When the music
stops, we are like
strangers, bodies
melting into each other,
awkward with words
in the light
