Wednesday, June 4, 2014

The way paper and embers should never meet

He's hesitant, folded in
on himself like a napkin.
His creases ease out slightly
as he gulps a single beer

He took two awkward lessons
in break dancing once: I laugh.
I tell him I've always had a thing
for guys who work in IT: he's sure
they have a thing for me too

I shake his hand as we meet
but we'll never touch again.
He'll tell me he's spent
a lot to keep women in
his company. Next time
he'll react wasp-stung
when I try to pay for dinner
and lean away from my
body for an entire movie.

Alongside his crumpled-navy-jumpered
carrot-thin-fingered, height-apologetic slouch
I feel like coals. I am
dense red heat looking for something
to set alight

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