Last Year

​
I used to sit here, last year.
Swaying. Forward; back. A body
of water, salty and wet; 
a sea-ghost sigh. My feet dangling
above the ground. Suspended 
in the crook of his craving.
Calling him; my mind’s voice carried
on the summer wind–though colluding trees–
handed from branch to branch though 
the space between us. Up and over walls and 
into windows. Vicious and sweet longing
as silken girl fingers caressing his skin.
Whispers, gliding; a tongue.
I, a soft Lilith, leaning in;
to smell his hair; 
my hand a comb of unwet water. 
My lips pressing a specter of kisses. 
Moaning, rattling chains. 
Under this same night Sky
last summer season…
The creaking links
repeating their sound 
as a hypnotist’s watch. 
Elevating me. To and fro.
My thighs pressed into the wooden edge.
Dress ebbing and flowing with 
the swinging; oceanic; as my pleasure.
My mind’s voice, rolling in off the sea… 
A mist of sex; sirening, invading. 
Your name…Your name. ​