You hold my hand at a distance by grasping my wrist in two fists
and I swing my arm with determination, to swat the fly
that circles beneath your pupils
but it dips and swerves and palpitates in anticipation,
causing you to blink--
I wish your eyes stayed open
“slowly”
you said
“slowly”
I laughed and gave up
then sleep overtook me
and whatfor? a brief intermission
I was only really scratching an itch
for you.