February 2020

BODY
Written by John Tustin

My body smells like your body;
My fingers like your thick wet hair.
We slowly tore into each other
Only hours ago, our mouths sore,
Our bodies arching then supine.
Your mouth shattered me,
Your mouth emptied me,
Your tongue a hot circle of light
Between me.

I get into this bed that groans
Without you
And maybe it’s night
And maybe it’s day
And the bedsheets are a pall
Of unreasonable sadness
Because soon, too soon
My body

Will smell like my body again.