stagnant air hovering
in between the mouths,
table set for a party
and you ask about my knees,
about how many bruises they have,
about my neck and the tongues
it has felt and I sit silent,
shrinking myself into a
perfect mold of womanhood
(untouched, unburdened, unknown),
nodding and smirking, coyly,
when you ask if you could
walk me home
(my hand in yours burns raw))
hurricane humidity,
like walking through water
like drowning
like ******, like love