the first time
you
put your arms around me
i leaned in closer
to your vodka breath
in the backseat
of a crowded truck
my marrow itself
has remembered your
touch
at night
when i am alone
and missing
her
it is not her hold
i long for
it is yours
YOU ARE READING
digital dance - poetry
Poetryyoure not alone in the way you scream at a god who hears but does not understand or care to learn
