You are the only one with whom
I can share a harmless closeness.
My hand slips down your back and I find
memories, valleys contained
in beautiful lines; past encounters.

Let me drink in the dips of your body,
give them a rest from constant pressure.
Remember the Shirley Temples,
glass tinted red from maraschino cherries
free from spirits and bitters;

the people who have walked out on you.
Your right hip I touch, and I experience your streets,
where people laugh at your mangled language
but can’t stop staring because
you’re a stunner.

I feel your left shoulder,
where resides a giant knot
strong like your walk, dull as old glass;
people who have scorned you.
Heels click, crisp as East Coast winters.

Who are they to decide?
They should envy your touch, sultry
and sweet, i’m chasing you down
gray concrete because I know:
You stop for no one.