some dusty springfield playing off a dusty
disc of vinyl; dusty in memphis. a classic.
you’ve got some rings on your ears.
move some hair away, you scoot in,
my hand moves through…
do you like the way they pick up
sound? I like the way yours taste,
when we’re embraced in each other’s
embrace, and my mouth is at your
neck and it goes up, at a lobe: metal,
skin, and your taste, your ear, just
slightly salty because, yes, didn’t you,
yes you biked here, dear?