The Last Time
The sun on the face of the wall
and I wake up alone again.
I close my eyes and recall
The last time I drew you close
To me. I know your body like the spider
knows the silkiness of her web, each thread
a journey I’ve traveled many nights
in darkness. I wonder
how I arrived here. This empty bed
alone with my shame.
Like the moth drawn by the sweet
stickiness of the bulb’s glow beneath
the eave of the rooftop
in darkness. Their bodies did not deny me
the deliciousness of their sex.
enough for me.
- Kenny Harmon