THE SECOND LAUGH (Chaya)
by Ryan Narce
i devote neat parcels of time
each day
to fussing over each
oval vowel
& clapped consonant of your name,
& to rehearsing what our growling
& infrequent spats
would be like.
to my only
half-embarrassment,
i devote time as well
to
pretending we might eventually
make love –
shaded predictably as
urgent and fumbling at first,
but intuitive
in each revision -
& so i
bashfully savor thoughts of
incoherent &
hot mouth-shapes;
of
low & coarse salt smells –
of dagger glances,
& of greedily nuzzling
the fine hairs in your armpits,
each time watching your tongue as
it recedes between your teeth –
poking out sarcastically
in a mute, &
suddenly rotten
solar laugh
as you consider me
in return
05/01/2011