0
Girl

She nodded toward me
made a comment
not a lady, or a miss,
but a girl
she called me
and it struck me
with interest
so that the idea
like a ball
rebounded in my brain
again and again and again
until I settled, pleased,
that I should be seen-
not for my years
surmised by my age,
but for the smile offered
in its place.

0
Muscle Memory

Lover
your whispered words
of a time before,
still carry
feather-light fingertips
across the skin
warm-spreading
and a tightening
breath, caught fast
in my chest –
I remember.

0
Senses

I was asking it, even then
I pulled a man down
and in, it was my burning skin
flushed red
the d├ęcolletage said plainly
when mirroring the memory –
is it love?
The pleasure was a puzzle
upon me, that my piece could
connect with another so easily
perfectly – and yet
the picture eluded me
indeed, confuddled me
that I should write it down
back then and years later
now, still vexed –
Does good sex create love?
Or does love create good sex?

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