The Back End

Poetry right now
drowns. No more reason to be clever
than it is to remove a finger. You look
to where you sow.
The sun does not play favorites
You have no idea if what you know will make
use of helps the world spin. To be
called and asked to sit down again take the fight
out of the day.

A lingering kiss puts the heat into night. So she
Sex drifts like a web of clouds. You push through it so you come out wet on the other end. The moisture hid, a child’s bright eyes playing peek-a-boo…
A throb here, a lub-dub-dub there.
The heart slows down. You dress, then say goodbye.

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