Poetry and Prose by Wess Mongo Jolley
I dance better than I speak.
My still lips are more eloquent than my polite conversation.
In the dark movie theater our knees touch skin to skin on a summer day.
Asleep in fall rain our hands find each other atop the covers.
Without you on a winter street my arms instinctively reach out for a stranger.
I miss you with my body muscles straining against the weight I carry.
I miss you with my body baking in the noontime heat attracting predators who dare not draw too near.
I miss you with my body blood moving through flesh hair shimmering in sunlight.
You ask Do you love me and I reply with cartwheels in freshly mown grass.
Yes but do you love me you say and I slap my chest until it blooms.
Yes but do you… and you stop before I bite off a digit and offer it to you.
(First published in Tree House Arts, 2018 )
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