Grip

A Poem

Now that your arms and thighs surround me this constantly swallowing nakedness swept up in the scent left on the sheets there’s time to step away from consuming other insanities

I would like to be able to tell you that I’ve got a grip

The temptation to slide into obscurity and hyperbole hasn’t diminished at all though, lover

I would like to tell you how I now model everything against you the Pygmalion of the past hopeless for some intervention hopeless and unnecessary

I’ve got some games in my backpack I have cards we can use to talk about speeches and the future then we must pick apart the past measure up the pieces that were callously rendered to a disparate record a history for now

But at least bringing us to this

J.D. Harms 2020