(Catch) The Wall

 (Catch) The Wall

Pressed against me

and just had your way.

Couldn't really talk.

What would I have to say?

Felt like I lost my mind

but saved some thought for those days

if only to recall a time

when I used to steal away

for an imprint of your movement

turning with rhythm and force.

Bound me by my joints

and started twisting with torque.

Every sip that once burned

is met with a slow churn

of swaying hips that guide my concentration

to that of soft lips in persuasion. 

Watching you gyrate

to the vibration

as my eyes sting

from this self induced dilation

is the kind of sensation

that offers elation to the dubiousness

of "whose booty is this

when they play the next song?"

Here,

the only thing wrong

is that it never lasts as long

as my grip

and our friction would suggest.

Just moments to quickly digest

and repeatedly obsess about

while trying to keep my desire concealed

behind an outfit that revealed

more about the intention that you level

and less about my attention

in this disheveled state.

It was already pretty late

when we heard the brass band

and our interlocked hands

gave way to a release.

One last gesture of peace

before we both found a crease

between crowds on the sidewalk.

Didn't buy another drink.

Didn't find somewhere to talk.

We just let the seconds run

as long as the record spun

and then we were done.

That was fun. 

Devin Joseph Metz

12.9.2020