Wine and Everything Else
All through the evening I chase you
from couch, to wall, to floor,
after three years aching
for the touch of your shoulder, cotton warm
against my bare arm. You laugh
at a joke I didn't say, and here
with my eyes
reeling you in
like red yarn.
There is a distance
I'm afraid to test, a stretching of
time and love I cannot bring
myself to breach.
I watch him braid her hair.
It's clumsy and sweet, and I feel
the touch tugging me, softly,
to the root.
Wine is too sweet against my tongue,
the music too loud, too sad, I'm drifting and
I anchor in the sound of my name,
held gently in your mouth.