My heart
is moored
in Charlotte
and cramps
like overworked
calves
stuck
in a place
thousands
and thousands
and thousands
of miles
away
no closer
than
the moon
surely
it beats
but only
by half
the other
half
beats
where he
is or
they
are
a metronome
at half
speed
longing
replaces
breath
squeezing
my chest
like a heavy
rock
tears roll
down
like opaque
avalanches
wetting
old
yellowed
photographs
of sunny
days
when we
smiled
and danced
in
moonlight
Teach me
how to spy
on you
with just
the corner
of one
eye
Teach me
how to whisper
in a way
only you
will hear
Teach me
to speak
in humid
growls
Teach me
to explore
the ridges
of your flanks
the pools
of your
clavicle
the piano
keys
of your chest
Teach me
to know
you
like I
know
the moon
and stars
Teach me
like I’m
a failing
pupil
tutor
me
It started
as an eyelash
in the eye
winking
past flickering
light
which bathed
you
in buttery
light
past you
flowers
teased
your ear
giggling
you lean
closer whispering
nothing
yet saying
so much
Afterward
his body
is against mine
one behind
the other
like bookends
absent of books
breathing
has slowed
after our long
run exhausted
arms
encircling torso
hands clutching
hands
in the afternoon
sun
we are bathed
in light
drying us
like baby seals
my hand
trails down
his stomach
to the damp
moist nest
we drowse
in separate dreams
not dreaming
of each other
now
in the shower
we stand
close
a small canyon
forming
between us
where the water
cascades
and tumbles
across
the boulders
of our bodies.
He moves
like a cat
stretching
and yawning
on the sofa
next to
me
his black hair
bleeds
cherry
and auburn
ringlets
fall
in front
of his eyes
like vines
cascading
down his cheekbones
even to his lips
which are
succulent
like plump
ripened tomatoes
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 