Dump site

I could take you to a dump site,
and still, the things we’d find there
you’d turn into a thousand stories.

Because it’s nothing to do with
the places I choose with you,
it’s the you that makes it

less of a dump.



I once heard
if your body mirrors theirs,
that your hand cradles your chin,
your legs spread open the same way,
You’re in tune with one another.

This time I forced fate.
Led my head back,
cornered my eyes to match
her thighs

and copied some stupid
movie scene by teaching
her to pronounce, pro-NOW-nce
Egypt, the wrong way,

because her way sounded sweeter.