Sonnet 51: Silver Dangling From My Wrist

By Tatiana Suarez-Pico

silver dangling from my wrist
reminded me of her and me
how far we've come and so i went down the list
a simple kiss, a clasp of hands, and quick to sex inventive as can be

Now im here on this bed surrounded by beauty i can't grasp
i dont believe how good it is i have to tell myself to breathe
the weigh of a lithe chest and the warm embrace of hips make me gasp
energy concentrated around me- a wreath

i want to unclasp the silver around my wrist and set myself free
release our memories to bury 'em in the threading of the quilt
make them disappear by rubbing hard in the space between our faults til we can decree
there is little left but air and perhaps a little bit of guilt.

I wanna put those bags down and breathe, a release til i feel my lungs are just flesh and membrane
ready to fill with the smell of roses and the exquisite delirium of no restrain.