Some Men I Have Known

Photo by Drew Hays on Unsplash

As we converse, I see

Lines coming from you

And entering me at angles.

Red flashes of innuendos

Cushioned by blue dots

Bounce off corners

To return to the point of

Beginning. I ask why,

And know the answer

To be in the question itself,

And know the numbing to be

The result of angular collusion.

To feel that the cold

Will be softened by

Future caresses does not

Lessen the distance

Between two points converging.

Knowing that the beginning

Is my end, I ventilate

All dusty rooms and

Aerate all porous groans

To once again

Be consumed by them

Just as they free me.

You ask why

And know not

That the answer lies

In your geometry of being.