Zachary

I thought I could handle
your arrows—
gazes too sharp

Then there was the slight curve
of my shirt
bending
and your eyes
meeting
the lace of my bra I hadn’t noticed was showing

Curl you lip like eyelashes

Then there were your fingertips
explaining
why we can’t be friends
to my collarbones,
tracing reasons like lines in sand
to my shrinking resistance

You had kisses bleeding from your fear-of-commitment lips.

I thought I could handle
your red —
need so staining

but then there was me,
just begging to receive —
the mouth bandage on your flowing lips.