men have backed me
into so many corners
that i can put my fingers
to the walls
and feel them pulse with
heartbeats.
i know ba-dum ba-dums
intimately.
their stutter
when i have no burn for you.
their thickness
when i can’t stop thinking
as i fall asleep,
one hand touching wall and
one on hip to make sure
i’m still alive to feel this.

the ridges
of this clapboard
swell under my fingertips
like
blood boils.

Photo credit: Alex Stoddard on Flickr

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