The wax and whiskey taste
of your tongue, the ragged
sound of your breath and the
appoggiatura of your whine
as you closed your velvet
eyes. In you I saw god.
The backboard drummed
the drywall in perfect time
with the backbeat of the song
on the stereo. As you ground
your teeth and pounded down
on top of me, bruising us both,
stitching and shredding our
short hairs like old Velcro,
I wondered: will you even
remember my first name?
(2002)
