a little then comes
over to show me
where something bit her.
Parking herself
flank to my face
she jerks her shirt
out of her jeans—
the smallest segment
of skin, so smooth,
though, so densely
resilient, so present,
that the whole inside
of my body goes
achingly hollow,
and floods with lust.
•
No sign of a sting;
Catherine tucks
herself in and goes
back to her work-
bench to hammer
again at the links
she's forging
for a necklace,
leaving me to act
as though nothing
had changed,
as though this moment
I'm caught in
could go on expanding
like this forever,
with nothing changed.
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