08
Jan
10

Pulse

Put your hand here in mine.
No, give me your wrist.
Maybe if I feel your pulse, I’ll be reassured
We’re both still human and still here;
Neither of us was translated during that kiss,
Transported to another plane.

Put your lips right there
Where my neck and shoulder meet.
Maybe another kiss will slow the thrumming
Of the blood beneath my skin,
Dissipate some of its heat.
Or maybe neither of us will care.

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