your hand turns the radio dial
and your voice only says my name while breathing out.
here i am in this car
with this boy
who had promised to take me somewhere farther than
moonlit streets and soft radio stations.

a dance of twin thighs on your pillow
has not faded from yesterday's night.
(i can see you rest your head there and think of how you miss her.)

when i kiss you i realize
your mouth is an electrical socket
waiting for a fork.

03/16/2004

Posted on 03/16/2004
Copyright © 2024 Emily Davidson