Nathan Wade Carter

Yarn

No one has kissed me in months
In mouths you will find tight lilies
Never a gift
The easy cursive
My lips in a curse
The penmanship of disgust

I am curious with men and about them
I keep my distance
Feeling around darkly
Let’s kiss with our clothes on

Let low libido flow
How it will
How ice builds its own structures
Tines of history and feeling
The energy
The found mouth of presence

I rest my head
Into the side of an animal
I attend to each pill or fray

This woven thing
Is made from one long strand