stubbed ends lopped in half,
trembling to exceed their finite digits.
Our clumsy-elbowed, halting embrace cringes
and remembers in an awkward laugh,
our bodies are severely interrupted bridges.
Our palms grip each other's fringes
(like lungs would squeeze a tight breath,
trembling) to exceed their finite digits.
My tongue is stuck with fearful stitches,
mumbling in its wounded bath,
"Our bodies are severely interrupted bridges."
Brushing close, our thighs fidget
and spasm, like flicking tails of numbered calves,
trembling to exceed their finite digits.
And all our youthful hopes have hinges.
To torque them is a risky craft.
Our bodies are severely interrupted bridges,
trembling to exceed their finite digits.
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