i think.
i think so vivid, so teeny tiny impulse.
we're strangely exposed.
in this overwrapped, unshaven,
deep-pressed novelty
certain levels of expectation imposed
like he calls me, like i'm high
slowly scratching at a flame
back and forth, back and forth
in a bed, allnightawake
twisted bodies, twisting faith
intervals of intimacy
beneath a blanket of disdain
she fuels contempt religiously
he rarely forgets to complain