you’re saying too much,
                too slow,
but I’m able to whip
through my part quicker,
lingering on only what
seems important—

your shoes, never
matching mine
your shirt, short-
sleeved between business
             and pleasure
your eyes—
strong and gentle in
that instant of gratification,
coming together through
our voices, coming to a
****** and then letting
go with our tongues