A Handful of Cherries

Touch me here, he says
(no here like this)
and fumbles still with fingers bent
for skin struck out from sticking cloth.
He breathes she's heaven (sent)
whatever that means;
it sounded so good in the movies.

Foreign tongues always do.

Get this out of the way, she says
(whispers god don't let this hurt)
and move on to the better parts
that jut in shaking wait for joy.
She touches them carefully and
we will remember this forever (ish);
it's what they told her on the radio.

Exotic music never lies.

But who wants to kiss those shaky lips
when holding hands is

so damned hard?