dance-like
a noise I hear is slipp-
ing, soaking wet like ripe
sweat drips from fingertips
dries cool the taste is slight-
ly strong pulls taut young skin
as music heard is scream-
ing sounds are close or in-
side, nearly there. it seems
a seam not sewn comes frayed
unravels lids resent-
ing eyes now open stay
alarmed, kindly invent-
ing thoughts one has forgotten
regrets the lack of sleep-
ing here alone and hot
while toss and turn repeat.
Nicole Vlado
back
next
home
|