My trembling words pass so lightly
over your eardrums
to anoint imprisoned passions
and dally only where descent purrs with possibility.

Even with the stammer of uncertainty,
my rapture sings loudly,
dying to graze your feverish,
without misdemeanor of too much or too little
along the way.

With each pass of ribcage
over beltloop
and near swipe of eyelash across belly;

I shudder.

Perfecting flip of wrist and thrust of soul
heaves last year’s worries out of storage
and into applicable juice.

Our ginger approach innocently betrays
the incendiary fascination
we know better to be
-pertinent information-
for an affair.

Descent of the imprisoned
diffuses the beast asunder
to haunt with oscillating pride,
a relic of pawing ginger kisses
deliberate with forethought.

If a sigh can say it all,
imagine the lifetimes a falling body
might gesticulate, one vertebrae at a time,
through thickets of wanting.

A slight realization creeps in,
bereft of consummation
heavy on disappointment.
and loosens the noose of desire
that has been dragging me so sweetly
through the fantasy of you.

Our broken illusory drags my strong feet
through the mud of still unknowing
where you might have led me
had pedigrees and inclinations
passed differently.

There’s no failing here,
we can only have or have not.

Photograph by Deana Mitchell

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