She turns our vinyl to its B-side
undoes all the kissing
erases all her words
now her whispers cut into me
and the residual luxury of her skin burns into mine
in fiery memory of our sunlit night.
Still, my soul billows in the wind
like fresh sails on familiar sea, made foreign
by her lips, haunting like ash in my burning mouth;
her cinnamon fingers and amber eyes seize my ribs
and crush me with grace, and other soft movements
yes, this is my heart’s storyline and beat—
my soul’s repose for which
I’d searched forlorn
all life long.