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a poem by Aleathia Drehmer

Against the Wall

He backed me up against
the wall like I had no choice.

The hot July night sliding along
the valley of my back,

slithering down his bare chest.
I follow one bead of sweat

downward, counting the number
of breaths it takes until his navel

swallows it back to his beginning.
He pushes me further into the wall

throwing shadows across my face,
his body close and singing electric,

our energy arcing in brilliance
and neither of us with welder's masks,

both blinded to the consequences
of human nature as I pull his

mouth against my lips, tasting
his genetic history on my tongue

as he kisses me back--
back against the wall.

© by Aleathia Drehmer
Gutter Eloquence Magazine ~ Issue #16 ~ July 2011