on Tuesday, kissing your torso
you’re wearing only a shirt.
the way your white legs
come together in a perfect “v”
excites me—I’m so fond
I ask you if I can kiss
your bare skin—I want a moment
of gentleness and familiarity.
you lift your shirt, slightly
“oh my god,” you say, as I circle
your stomach, your pelvis
the tops of your thighs—
leave me forever here
paorta-kremvax 