Times like these I
Slip back into the stacks
Full of dusty books that
No one bothers to read
And hazy memories that
No one else understands.

I feel a special connection to
the Encyclopedia of
Auditing Techniques--
I remember how it felt,
pressing into my back
When you kissed me, hard,
Your tongue mimicking the
Staccato of heels on the floor,
Your hands imitating the
Aimless wandering of
Student footsteps, trying to find
A book of miraculous answers.
They never found the magic
Waiting in the auditing aisle
With a crooked smile and a
Silent invitation.

Times like these I
Slip back downstairs with my
Cup of coffee
My tongue burning

Wondering
If the steam from the coffee is
Enough to explain
Why I'm flushed and
Breathing heavily

As though I've been scorched
Inside and out.

05/07/2003

Posted on 05/07/2003
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