XXIII
CRUSH TALK 

I told everyone at the party
about her hands. I told them
about the square of her thumb,
the plush center of her palm. 
The way she moved her ring
from one finger to the next 
while we were talking. I told 
them everything I know about
her body. Catalogue of teeth 
and injuries, soft bellied and busy.
And when they asked for a photo
I denied it, I said I rely
on a language of first words.
The way her shoulder slides
into mine while we are walking.
I said sometimes we are so close
that when she says my name I can taste it.