like a crustacean
so hard to crack
skin of sunlight, eyes of chai, hands of stone
magnetic north is more sure than you
if it was for sport or hunger, neither you or I can tell.
The first night she sunk into me
as new life into flesh, I knew.
I may be reminded by the man who lay in my bed,
when he warms my skin with fire on his tongue.
She lies in my bones, waiting where I cannot reach.