Kissing his cheek. Swallowing water. An orgasm.
Blooms on the nightstand. Too many peaches to eat.
A bit of that drench. A residue.
Can’t reenact though we try and try.
Ecstasy belongs to the past, when twenty,
when back then, when all-out and youth burn.
A lyrical time. I revisit it in dreams
as one who’s abdicated.
As the purest once-lapsed nun.
From Skeletons by Deborah Landau. Copyright © 2023 by Deborah Landau. Reprinted with the permission of The Permissions Company, LLC, on behalf of Copper Canyon Press.