Lana May

Molten Ground

The telephone rings
at the top of the stairs.
Speak forever
before my heart’s
on center stage.

I should leave,
before I let it all out
But you put down
the phone
and your eyes
root my feet
in molten ground.

Better leave now
But
your eyes
block my way
again.

Better leave
Now
Before I forget
Again.

And as I reach
for the door,
I am silenced.
Winded by the vigor
of your swift
embrace.
Warm saliva

your kiss
floods my forgetful mind,
searches and finds,
takes me
away down a
desperate river
in which I will
probably
drown.

(100 words)

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