gallas13

when i had finally gotten you alone
that summer evening crammed us
into a table between a wrinkled sugar
mamma with the candy shed kept soft
in her pocket and two balding faggots. we
squeezed between those facing mirrors,
flanked infinitely by sagging women
and taut men whose conversations heaped
thick over porcelain, half-eaten, and clacked
and droned in layers of sticky july air
barely able to hear what i was saying you
brushed your lips against a glass of table wine
like you would my nape in moonlight.