not used to your language
mistaken glances towards me
brushed off your shoulders
of dust and integrity
the fog that follows
around the lake
mascarades you
your lingering sighs
short breaths
against long legs
leading you to uncertainty
hand motions to hide
secret codes of intimacy
like kisses on your neck
or cuts along your arms
along the small of your palms
forget about the troubles of today
you’ll ruin your evening
the things you have no control over
letting then run you down
if you could shed you skin
would your bones be blue
like your blood
foreign to the air