Hopefully Tonight

Knot Hole

—Photo by Katy Brown, Davis

hopefully I’ll feel something major tonight

—Trish Consunji, Sacramento

Away from him who doesn’t always see me clearly/honestly enough
I play with you and play that way stripped bare and wanting
There’s time tonight to crash against a wall
pinned limbs stretched and arched, breathless
Fueling attraction branded by a scratch
I memorize smooth roundness, strength, and bones
There’s sure ease when you fondle and exert impression
Using talk dirty for clues and your fine contours guiding everywhere else
Grateful to surrender those remnants of ache that hinder my style

____________________________

It’s difficult not to think of you that way that way when you’re lean in stark shadows
too beautiful in form to leave and I trace torso so I may swoon again
You see me there not there not part of you yet so far maybe never
but imagine touch like that and think of me slow on you
beating tangled throws sweat and thick rhythm

Even when it’s wrong. Even though it’s hopeless.

—Trish Consunji

____________________________



what you've done 

—Trish Consunji



i ponder what you've done to me


and lips don't change a thing


even when laid there


...overt gestures claim the heaviest air


urgency caught out of sorts


you can't be the only one


and maybe this flutter,


this pang will subside


though down my back


and i am yours too often


that dimpled smirk sideways


will shake/break my world


i inhale anxious moments


until i am all over you


—Photo by Katy Brown

Amnesia

—Trish Consunji

out of order 


barely intact


cracked 


shaken 


& lost


I wish 


to melt

out of this 


leave even 


good times


just fall 


in love 


with maps 


& forget 


the way 


he called me 


‘baby’


__________________________



sun day 



—Trish Consunji

skin wicked with luck his nearness overwhelms me


as i observe his sugar quiet down my black soul


the best taste of him comes in the morning


when warmth is whispered through a dark red ache


there is deep pleasure in the sweet sounding word

s
he conjures out of blue and i play with on the bed



___________________________



this place 

—Trish Consunji



inside this place it's happening again + not your swagger or sway


nor your reach or reflection can mean what they mean as inside this place


inside this place your honey spoils me    timing has wrecked those curves


how do i get over you when i long to be under you?

__________________________

Today's LittleNip:

I breathe in 7 a.m.
Sustained in trance breathing
By propitious wooing

—Trish Consunji

_________________________

—Medusa

For more about Trish Consunji, see www.midtownmonthly.net/music/musical-chairs-trish-consunji

—Photo by Katy Brown