I want to take you from that corner you like.
Closer, your figure, complicating the air.
Your invitation: to wonder what it’s like sightless,
the heart, bloody muscle, humming
through your wires. The blind brush of your leg
my thrill. In the end you may not want me.
Before bed I will forget to close the window.
Here’s a good dark spot you can crash in. I’ll lie
face up on the floor and the air gets tighter.
We will talk around our wants. It is modest.
I’ll feel your hunger grow above me, and will wait
for you to sly down, bite my neck.