Majestic Paradox

SING A SONG OF BATHROOMS

your presence like a needle each spring

stitching desires

twisted in youth’s awakening

packed tightly between mine

                      and ground

your body softened our wood

I remain turned about you

deep into summer’s scorch

my peeled skin served as offering

                that we might continue

knowing you would leave

                       I left

to autumn in bathrooms

   seated to sing to

                stretching to expose

                   the needle’s eye