V

yes I’m blue I think because of you.

the sweat slipped hot between our moving bodies

cementing you to me to us to beat

to glance to heat to strange soft hands

pressing into every wet crevice,

jealous of anything they hadn’t yet touched.

Am I blue maybe because your body

and my body didn’t touch enough?

you’d be too (or aren’t you) if the

woman who first gripped your soaked skin with

hasty grace and drunken blues called herself

a solitary letter that stood for nothing else.

Yes I am yes I want to solve your riddles

sober and drunk at once, seasick with lust.