Giving Help or Head

Leaning over your desk, staring at calculus

I learned to solve at sixteen.

I’ll direct you to the nearest solution-

You have one hour left to reach, but

Have gotten too lost to see-

If you stop to ask me.

But you won’t, so

I won’t wait.

You don’t, and

I say nothing.

Kissing slightly,

Along your t-shirt’s edge, I leave

My mouth shut

And your neck wet.

Sheets of computer paper and

Snapped mechanical pencil tips

Sprinkled with eraser bits,

Cover the floor around your feet.

You punch your calculator keys while beneath your desk

I'm on my knees.

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