dancing on the cusp

1

we’re on the same continent
but there are things we cannot share

bricks of walls uniting and dividing
memories of men we cannot see

you live over there, I die over here
laughing and dying of it

hand in hand between bus stops,
deliberations on juries hanging

there are things we cannot share
bunched up in fists

2

shaking your toes.
thunderous, thighs roaming

hips singing the psalms of
laughter bouncing off your

ivory chest tusks.
the enamel fronting your

plaqued veneered lies
laughing.

your elbows jut
just above my face

these model skeletons
haven’t the time of day.

3

how we can bear to be
so insular I do not know

routinely there is something
speaking in my chest

tentatively poking a microphone
and dropping tender syllables

like wartime parcels
or delicate slippers

but my dearest,
my most dear;

why are you speaking
so far from thirsty ears.