and sometimes it burns to recall when
the white shone against my tanned skin for hours
as my sentiment overrode my fastidiousness
where we sprawled across sheets beyond miles of highway
hands raw and aching from the climb-
throat raw and aching from the-
heart raw and aching from the
scent of sweat and pu-erh
and sometimes it burns to recall
my textile statement of intent
presented in an apartment neither of us occupy now
before the note arrives
explaining your arrival
and the flavors brighten sharply
against my quixotic tongue
Evolving Exactness 