We’ve spent months and weeks and nights perfecting the curvature of my body molding against yours
as my fingers slip in among strands
and my knees bend just a little
to make sure my chest is resting
beside your center of operations
My head nods forward and then dips back
my lips have come to expect the
next sensation of exhalation
meeting here
meeting fear
Because now there is no practice
for our congregation of cells
no preparation for parting your lips
or my thighs
We are rehearsing in our minds
how to make thought pictures die
until practice with a stranger starts again.