Where are there pillars for me to throw down?
That night you kissed me with gin on your breath
The streets were glossy from the evening rain
and everything seemed hazy and unsure.
Drunk and foolish, I told you my secret
And you licked your lips and gave me that smile
strong and pungent like cheap bourbon. The smile
that would burn anyone’s throat going down.
I wish I’d lied. Kept silent and secret.
I’m not bound with bowstrings, but your hot breath
on the back of my neck makes me unsure;
headed for a downfall. And in the rain
you seemed fragile. In the late evening rain
through the black streets, wet grass, and your damn smile,
your heart beating so fast. Were you unsure,
or just thrilled to know how it all went down?
I stood there sweaty and out-of-breath.
You pressed your lips to me and my secret.
Swallowing all, in the dark, in secret.
My face shone, wet from tears or spit or rain.
You just cocked your head and murmured, “you’re breath-
taking. I love to see you cry, or smile.
You feel so much, like the world’s falling down
Around you. You’re so tender and unsure.”
You’re right. I’m fickle, faithless and unsure
about anyone but you. The secret
Was never new ropes or cornrows, but down
beneath my ribs my heart beats like the rain
on battered tin roofs for you and your smile.
And I tremble at the thought of a breath
at the back of my knees. A hot, slow breath.
The memory makes me quiver. Unsure?
With a donkey jawbone and your strange smile
I’d slay reckless thousands. It’s no secret,
I chase you like thunder after the rain
or leaves that reach skyward as they fall down.
And if my downfall is your unsure smile
or the secret memory of your breath
against my flushed skin, no tears will rain down.