NAJjustiz

I need you not to freak out
when I look at you
and tell you that you’re beautiful.
When I move behind you,
Anchor your torso between my knees,
place your long hair in my hands,
and your lumbar against my belly.
I’m holding tight to Samson’s strength,
begging you not to move.
You
are holding up the walls of my temple.

I need you to smile
when I sit down close to you
without touching or speaking.
I need you to pull a seventh-grade movie date,
pretend yawning your arm around my shoulders.
I promise, I’ll just lean in.
You can tangle your hands in my hair,
holding me from the follicles,
squeezing until I can barely breathe.
I don’t want space for air.
You are bringing together all of my fragments.

I need you to listen,
turn off the TV or video game,
when I fold myself up on the floor
at your feet and start speaking
too fast for you to hear,
too fast for me to breathe.
Just indulge me.
Don’t ask questions.
You won’t be tested over this information.
I just need your ears.
My voice rolling
out of my throat, off of my soul
into your eardrums and heartbeats.
This has to be bonding.
You can laugh.
I’ll still love you.
We both know I’m kinda crazy.

And I need you to make love to me silently,
only breath,
and moans,
and the sounds that accompany
the filling of body cavities.
If you need a word,
it must be a name:
God’s or mine will do nicely.
There ought to be no questions.
The answer is
open mouth, open throat,
open legs, open soul.
Right now,
there’s nothing else you need to know.