By T.A. Jones
After a few laughs,
a few drinks—you leave.
But at the exit,
it’s the way you look
back at me that tells the tale
how you want our bodies to talk.
As I rise,
you tilt your head to follow the tail
that’s dressed in red tonight.
Finding a solitary space to
create a world of our own,
we dive into each other to
hear howls and moans.
Pound for pound.
It’s round for round to
explore every sound our bodies make
when we’re bound in lust.
But the way we move—and speak,
a bystander would think we’re in love. Finding a mirror to finish,
we both to get to
stare at each other—as we
simmer in savory satisfaction.
About The Author:
T.A. Jones (he/him) is a Black poet/writer based in Atlanta, Georgia. He graduated from Western Carolina University with a bachelors in English and minor in Creative Writing. He currently works as a preschool teacher and occasional music journalist/podcaster for CentralSauce. He’s finishing his first poetry compilation, Obsidian Sun.