Contemporary once more from summer time
and its fields of unrepentant grass,
we strip down within the dooryard
of my little space, test each and every different over
for ticks. Via now we’ve got
outlived embarrassment,
despite the fact that of the bare pastimes,
this one stays the extra intimate:
what shapes we make
within the flashlight’s chiaroscuro,
interrogating each mole, each freckle,
prior to kissing them, an apology
to the blameless for such accusations.
Now not regularly however every now and then I’ll spot one
strolling throughout your rainy pores and skin, motion
as misquoted shibboleth. I ferry
the little liar to the hearth, cautious
to burn what may have come
between us. Such as you, I don’t want this
however I need this. The betrayal
of the fight to stay nonetheless.
