It’s as though sheer will provides
the feeling of action: broad shoulders
balanced on a narrow frame
the V-shaped digress of his back facing you.
How many times have you spoken to
the man at the computer?
How many times have you imagined
that back against a wall, hand clutching hip,
hand cradling head, lip touching lip
touching lip touching lip.
He’s the wrong man, you’re the wrong woman
yet you feel as if you could sink or swim. Live or die.
The frothing of spirits thick with passion,
and all those pheromones processing … processing
because language can be difficult
because whatever it is between you
can’t be sated. Gaze by gaze,
you enter this place beyond other places,
beyond the body itself, where the midnight tides ebb,
and a great wave swells and drifts away
carrying you over the lip of the world.