missing your pressence around my body;
the dark and the everlasting light.
11pm walks through the city
chasing the curves of sunset clouds
and moonbeam peaking,
like your ruffled blouse.
the ends of your alleys make me sore,
feet caressing every needle, every marble stone,
and all those faces
meshing eyes,
pattern my trotting absurdities.
a smoke in the cleansing rain
until i am washed into rescue,
uncertain how the words will penetrate;
travel the sound
of swishing lips and damp tongues
pulling and curling
on time.
always on time.
a tempo worth beating into your stalks;
your finessed legs pressing,
shoving me along deeper,
to feel all of you,
undressed in the mirror
chanting, posing, holding in rapture.
bring me up once again,
so i may never forget
the taunting hum
snapping back like rubber
on your pleasant derriere.
jessica m wilson cardenas
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