i think a lot about the night
we kissed like vacuums might / or magnets
stacked like old books on your mattress,
hardcover poems of ancient lovers and dust.
you sucked on my lips like they were
fences we were jumping over
immigrants crossing borders
& hoarding the time we lost in boxes.
i wanted to touch you / between tics & tocs,
smother you like green chili
on your sides (your hands like fly traps on mine)
& feel the warmth of you,
your fireworks / your forest fire.
i tried to fill the space between us with that smoke,
with skin & with bones,
with a string that stretched across our eyes,
like tin can telephones
tugging at mine.
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