21st & Amtrak
Location
At 3:27
laughter
Barrels from the cave of his throat
Three times before I can finish my sentence
This is the way strangers should always make love
Teeth glistening in heat
Mouths parted
Eyes quick
Hands moving rapidly
As if the air was flesh
We hold our own bodies,
To house the riots of our chests
His eyes tell me what his mouth will not
They’ve betrayed him six times today
Your lips embrace words like an old friend
My poetry
Consumed in the lines of your smile
You laugh,
Absorbed in the enamel of my speech
Four hours fly like a loved one’s last breath
I fold images of him into my luggage, for safe keeping
You are all of Sampson, the morning after Delilah sheared his crown
Reminiscent of might and defiance/
Trembling in his vulnerability
Friend, Come tease a smile from a woman’s wet and lustful trust
Coax the sorrow from the spine of strangers, Stranger
There was weight there, just this morning
evaporated in the early evening that met us
You lark like flight. We laugh like light.
When the earth exhales all dewy and sultry like
And the pavement leaps out to melt our backs
When the tension warms like stale Budweiser and curry
When intimacy becomes some lofty bird who sheds her feathers
In the quiet jungle of an African convenience store
And us foreigners, we laugh and clap each other’s backs
Marvel at the way Americans carry their tongues like heavy baggage
“you speak like a weary traveler”
She says
“and don’t know no better, and don’t want to learn, either”
It makes me laugh
That you spend the rest of our time together
Pressing your tongue and vowel sounds
To the roof of your mouth,
Hoping to change your heritage
When the heavens drop their scars and steam
When the waiting room feels like a living room floor
When the clock strikes 4:48 and we must become strangers once more
I am reminded of the all the august evenings
When my smile felt like an American tongue/
Before I learned lazy speech sounds much better than silence,
I tuck away my concrete teeth
And grin all the more fiercely.