Steph Bruzon

For A.

please me.

/
bend,

so that I may see your spine. 
/

let me walk away with nothing, 

let it be the last thing I call mine. 
/

please me. 
/

please, me. 
/

the film is caught 

in your hair, 

lover, 

let me see. 
/

let me touch you

there, through that 

image, 

/

let us be

/

where the act of presence

and absence

coexist. 
/

where one sight takes you to another

and leaves you sighing, 

on the verge of dying

at the mouth you almost kissed.

/

may it be rapture, 

this place, unmissed. 
/

may it make ripples

in the river of your corporeal,

the film you make 

to show that you, too,  

exist. 
/

you have captured it—

it is tangled in your hair. 
/

let me in. 
/

I want to touch you

/

there. 
there.

/

with my heart, 

soundly. 

with my soul, 

bare.

/

with everything

but hands.
/

I want to bleed 

for someone who understands.

(do you?)
/

bend, bend,

that I may see your spine. 
/

you have already undressed me 

to my last line.