In between
the torn bedsheets
of rumor
and
suggestion
In between
Your face and mine
Small diagrams
I stop
for a tiny paper cup
Once for wine
And jaws that shut
Should've
washed teeth
we bored it out
Fall
from our breasts
on the dancefloor door
Would your stride
force my mind
Stationary bikes line the beach front
The digested animal
Hold your mother, dance through the kitchen
Two weeks and it's so cute