sounds #13: creep

talking too close
he’s wild
spider-eyed
and wraps me
in an armchair
to let fingers
drip
like rain
down my neck.

sounds #4: ignoring kate hudson

a bad movie
and bored
you lace fingers
through mine
pick out the half-octave
of my knuckles
play a new
soundtrack

I tap back an accompaniment
smiling in the dark
silent, ready to dance

love #3: equinox

Our nights are getting longer.
In his parents’ house
fingers scuttle over my skin
quick and quiet as lizards.
I stretch against the bed
bite my knuckles like a bridle
and clamp down on ecstasy.

(later)
I cradle his warmth
in a place of worship
this temple of many gods.

(later still)
Made from fire and earth
we are flesh enough
to withstand the winter
our bodies conjoined and gasping.