delicate
you brush with one tender
finger under your earlobe
the very
spot
just three evenings prior
i watched in earnest
a trembling sentry sat behind you in church
the vulnerable flesh poised
to meet the prospect of my lips
and i could’ve just
swept that spot
gentler than a feather duster bumping
everything on the way down
or so i thought it might be like
you pointed upward
DYKES
RULE!
scrawled on the ceiling
it’s true
next day
while in the bookstore
with Boosie
i caught sight of you
in a blazer
and you moved me
super serious
conveyer belt smooth
you strode off
with the enthusiasm of a recent convert
i marked the sign of the cross
grateful
i prayed a sacred vow
from this mouth
to that spot
rhea moon is the author of “midnight zone”, a first chapbook, lives in pittsburgh, pa, and is a single parent. rhea has an essay forthcoming in Argot Magazine.
© rhea moon
Photo Credit: © rachid amrous / Adobe Stock
