While you were in your bedroom getting ready, I explored
the petals of a flower on your coffee table, searching
for its sex. I touched it, licked the yellow dust
from my fingertips. There’s beer in the fridge, you shouted,
but I wanted not to lose
the melting of this nectar for that.
I closed my eyes, wrapped my tongue around
the sound of your voice and its texture. When I opened
my eyes, you were there. I don’t know how long
you watched me that way.