You remind me of my uncle,
his clipped comments and clear cut
disinterest. You mirror
him so well, it’s a wonder.
Maybe the North does this to folk,
makes them distant, not unkind,
but certainly not friendly.
Unlike my uncle you are
gorgeous. A splendid thing, turning in
a dress, skin bending and maybe a stretch
to grab a drink, or to place one
on a counter or table.
The space, the air between an upturned
crease of cloth and your body. Even
around my uncle I think of that space
right under the ribs, around the belly,
not too far from the left breast.