With dusty fingers against my tongue

Your touch doesn't fall where the others have:

At my feet,

Me, on my knees.


Street-light halos and neon colors,


Bound in sheets.

Play this out with calculated moves,

Let go,

Hold on.

No room for chaos, just



The curves of your shoulders,

Your tangled words mapping out passion

and distance,


Our skin a one way road,

Fingertip toll booths along the way.

Forefingers fastened around my wrists,


The ropes of my past slipping through clenched fists

Just as I lean forward,

Over the edge.

Into Wonderland.