i had two wines at the office
christmas party and he was
making tofu when i got home,
some dumb punk music playing
loud enough for the whole
house and i said sweetheart
and he said sweetheart and
we turned in that night with
our feet rubbing smooth and
warm and together and what if
you turned ninety-degrees where
you’re standing, that’s what
i want to impart, if anything,
to my teenage self. not that
you can make your future, but
your future will kneel before you
and unmake you slowly, pushing
its soft palms against your
stomach, along your thighs,
smoothing you into something
not you never thought possible
but something you never
thought twice about.
