untitled y

   by Heather Lee

 

I invite you in, mistrusting you as much as language.
My fingers listening
to your pulse, kneading the length of you toward the tip.

Knead—there's a verb tricky to the touch
that k silent as the distance between us.

I imagine you a word, awkward as yogurt
melting down my throat, the taste of you elusive as tiny seeds.


Copyright © 1998 by Heather Lee. All rights reserved.