gertie

Your palm curved around a gas pump.

flickering overhead, green-gray skin sticky with nighttime heat

glossy with a sickened yellow.

Half-smile a lamppost teetering over the roof of the car.

Lips so soft, teeth peering white lights

Transparent office buildings open late,

A necklaced grin from under your shirt collar.

Eyes kind and warm and lined at the corners

With something only taken by staring. curled my insides

Into new shapes.

Flex of your forearms. Sinew under skin

Muscles alive and working

Slide of my fingertips down 

the smoothest side of it

Protruding veins vulnerable,

Leading me to the center of your palm

Damp from the desperate press of summer

Red traffic lights transformed clumsy your profile.

I’d tug at you. Once you seemed ready.

Wanted a part of you with me.

You never complained.

Taken for more.

Winding through looming ghastly palm trees,

Ink seeping out from the swelling sky,

The clasp between us 

Made me solid. I was becoming something

To you and me. And you were the only steady thing

Inside.