i caught myself trying to replicate your posture
what was there left to do besides laugh
after one night, after all
usually, i don't even bother with things like that on the first night
just look at her eyes, her brow, her mouth, her hair
but you were so there, so
i indulged
soaked in your presence
you were, so
you were so transfixing to me
i don't remember a damn word you said
it was like you were swimming
the blood wasn't bled so much as displaced
with a lazy swiftness to it as if it had been waken from its cycle for a brief chore
it had every intention of returning
there was an effortless grace to your movements that,
i couldn't understand
my mother was a dancer, i think i mentioned that thrice
but your coordination was far more unconscious than hers ever was
i forgot your name
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