suspended

crying (from laughter)
you watch my disbelieving face
which, with my own name brand stupidity, says: "... me?"

and, with that needle in your hand
you nod like that gameshow ending last night
and weave your pattern - plain diamonds - into the skin around the few hairs on my chest, beside our biology classroom.

you tie the other end, firmly, around one finger of yours and raise a leg,
a crescendo carries down the corridor - the junior choir sings,
and you kick me backwards through the swing doors and down the stairwell as the bell rings.