A Cellular Memory
He spoke to me and I
felt his words
on the back of my neck
as near as a sunburn,
yet I dared not look at him.
He sat closer than I was comfortable
yet I could not move away
my heart beating – a timpanic vibration,
emblem of mortality
which left me breathless.
The sun shrouded in afternoon clouds
a small disc of celestial music
was nothing but mute gospel.
There was no savior watching
over me and no forgiveness
for the sin of being available.
I danced with an invisible partner.
Until I grew, I knew only the
daily news of his breath
on the back of my neck.
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