Quickly now
go
before
I tell you
I love
the smell
that smell
what is it?
Now I know
I know
what it is
that it is
the handsoap
from the public restroom
and I can’t
admit to myself
that I find it
intoxicating
intoxicating
in
toxic
my blood frozen
with the odor
on your hands
your neck
your neck?
Why your neck?
Nevermind.
Come closer.
Come
closer, so
I can breathe
you in, so I
can breathe.


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This entry was posted by Terry Bain on Tuesday, February 27th, 2007, at 4:07 pm, and was filed in Daily Poem, White Chickens.
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