Gravity Is Only A Temporary Arrangement

 

The gate croaked back and forth after. I couldn’t bring myself
to calm its orbit. They say the night swallows people
but your spine abstained from the shade; rejected usual contour.

In the morning another morning. Made my bed out of light
and my need out of underclothes. A provisional skin.
Life perpetual pendulum; door relentless vector
for the momentarily blind. I invited you in,
but only with shoes off.
Felt the density of our bodies,
an abundance of vibration. 
Outside, sky forcing its way into existence.
We incompletely saw nobody everywhere and always.

Once we kissed upside down and the gravity was overwhelming.
At eye level the angle mostly thorax.

Untended desire is a starched collar, wet heat,
red face and hands. The illusion
of momentum. I pressed my tongue to my wrist,
pulse confirming my duration.
I dropped a vase of flowers
and instantly ceded them to the floor.
Made my sweating gut an easy enemy.

When we met you said everything looks better in poor lighting.
I was sleeping with someone else but I didn’t touch him after that.
Last night I dreamed I was pregnant, hiding my belly beneath me like a dog.
Existing only on stone and sideboard, warming my hind legs in the sun.

Maybe the gate was a palindrome. My outstretched arm; unwilling fence.
There are two ways to counter a force: run straight towards, with equivalent speed,
or sidestep, as you did; avoid the impact altogether.

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