Six years, a social class or two, a religion and half a country between us

We found each other in a city large for me and small for him

I bought this tall, exquisite stranger a beer, only because I’d had a few myself

And found some courage there.

Was the moon full that night as he walked me home, and we sat close on the sofa?

My legs tucked under me, facing him, I asked, “What ...

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Out of focus there is nothing.

But he needles his way in.

And his warmth spreads,

and his essence flows and ebbs

in my mind and in my smile and in my bed.

He’s the cerebrospinal fluid

that floods my skull,

and all my cracks until I’m full.

Finally: a flash of his face and flesh;

vivid, quick, and then death.

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