These Days That Sway

On a manic day, I may just sway a little

your way, nestle close to your collarbone,
asphyxiate the warmth right outta you. Trust me

when I say I'm a little topsy-turvy—like

winding mountain roads, you don't see me
coming in my metal cage. Barreling.

I speed through your tunnels and scream
around your hairpin turns. Purge
your pity and sorrow. Give me lust

instead. Press our lips to release
my disgrace. Red skid marks. Leave behind

my solitude. Let me feel. Let me

feel something? Anything rather than

these furrowed fissures. I’ll use
you as tar to engorge the grooves;

and swoon into you, as our illicit

creation creeps forward—its acid

searing us together. My Darling,

sway with me again

on my days that sway.

Let’s sway.