scientific

Wrists against the wall, knee
kneading as if there needs
to be any coaxing. As if
our muscles haven't
played through this
scene in our dreams; as
if our lips could possibly meet
in any wrong way.

Houses and police officers
may need reinforcement, but darling,
we stand alone. We are solids
with liquid movement, and in
experiments, we take the stance
of variables. I write love like it lays
in your lips, or possibly your hips, but
this, we understand, is not where the
magnet lays. If we found it, what would
we do? Would you keep it within you?
Or would you tear it out and stick it
under fire, watching our lives change
as the domains lose their desire?

I know we could go separate ways,
but I'm asking you to stay. Lust isn't
the only thing within this space.