By P.D. Battle

you messed around and saw me,
while i was busy wasting the good stuff
meant for creation,
on survival.

i saw you, see me
while you dragged intention
over my scars,
whispered their songs
straight to my face.
while i spun outta control rifting
about purpose and graceful
failure,
from peek-a-boo to
accidental peacocking
i was just being.
‘til the air went stalemate in lungs
‘til i became suspended in the wells
of your ducts.

The lag between embarrassment
blushing ‘neath
my chocolate-skinned camo
and urge to interrogate your wet-eyed beholding,
Has left a catch in
side
deeper than a record scratch
ing repeat.

i felt you, feel me then
i felt you
Feel me.