His body over mine
didn’t startle as I moved
my hand along his frame,
curious, but aware, I wished
to touch something unbeautiful
and see how long I could hold it
against me, as if it would start
to burn in time. I knew it wouldn’t
matter if I traced the maps
of grafted skin down his spine,
wouldn’t change the mistake
of his scars or this night
and what lay ahead. I didn’t
realize until it was over
that his body was the siren.
And my body, just the accident
it continually rushed towards.