What Can Move Me Now

What can move me now? Like a flower I am stuck, in a hole, in a rut And time will dig me deeper still. When chattering keys and computer screens and the tease of free knees about the library are far too clear to me when I can’t stand or breathe Leather boots and coffee stains bleed rings in papers puckered lines And paint these purple floors. Mundane life outside of me makes my chaos seem to be a crime, an awful dream This air hangs heavy on my lips It holds me steady, cinches, dips And pins me like a bandit. A grip ensnares these body curves to keep me still and shut. My feet fell firm when they pulled me here, to his web of words I’m caught A child to his will, content and not What can move me now? I bow my golden hair and face to this mindless taste I can’t erase which arrests me here like stone. And my body creaks a sulky song, to beckon his arrival. And his arms are warm in form and fact cloaked stark in russet skin. His hands don’t doubt, there’s space on me And like doors they settle in, Clawing at survival Those brilliant eyes stay To terrify and mask the cracks and make me small again. I am afraid, but I stop all the same By palms that press me to dust and away. What can move me now? I am taken and tossed by this fractured smile, Captured awhile and my breath is spent And my blood, a flood, shifting hotly now Is a sport for the man and a day, unplanned. I am stuck again here To wide eyed stares and purple chairs, To the scratch of carpets and Pattering fingertips To my lonely skin and finally, to him with his kiss, an intimate lie What can move me now?