Another retro-fit today, with some small revisions to fit it into the overarching narrative.
Later, at the Same Dance Party
Finally he withdraws his sweet body
from the kiss, and the veil descends.
I’m completely involved with someone,
he says, he’s coming back tomorrow.
Thrust together by his words, we taste
each other’s mouth through the silk.
Then all the names of the world—
body, kiss, tomorrow, his name Seal—
swaddle in a wet underwear
the things they designate.
When he backs off again, a cry
I cannot recognize passes my lips,
Take me home with you.
It does not pass the cloth of gold.
He presses through the crushed bodies,
pulling his tee-shirt down as he goes.