I’m not funny enough to be tragic
I arrive already drunk on boredom
you weigh down my buoyancy
I brush by gauging love

I open with your closing remarks
the electricity comes on
and we’re reconnected
semen flows slowly down your thigh
the grip of the earth grows tighter
the ocean spills over the hills
the air is fresh with stale ideas
the walls hung with frowns

a woman with an ear for good-looking language
a morning full of comfortable voices
the tattoo you’re working into a poem

the short cuts of love are too quick for romance
cruising through red lights
with the dazzle of your looks
I hope the character assassination goes smoothly
with the taste of the sea on your eyelash

the dark lingers longer than a glass or two
I’m looking for fun –not a goddess
your figure steadies me in an uncertain way

the embrace I never make
because I might never let you go

by Jude Dillon