Tagged: spin

4:06 a.m., you ordered a

4:06 a.m., you ordered a
ballad, as if it were on the
menu, called for it like
we had just spun the
wheel of fortune, and we
landed fairly far
afield into the post-
9/11 inappropriate
Bangles, but you
whispered close enough
as though you knew Bette
Midler was queued up next,
and we were hours till dawn


i want to break it

i want to break it
to you slowly so that each
syllable lingers,
sinks in. i want to
break it to you
quickly so that the
speed of the words whips
up a centripetal force,
spinning away. i want
to break it to
you gently so that
there is no more
fear, only trust –
the known knowns

every fifth or

every fifth or
sixth morning,
we practice
improvising steps
in the shower, ankles
and knees rounding
out a tango. we
learn to lean into
each other’s
axes, so that we
will never find
ourselves spinning
too far away,
forgetting this
thirst, mouths
wet with so
much laughter

because our hearts have

because our hearts have
mastered the tilt of a good
throw, our bodies still
stir when we meet
after a lengthy
absence, a natural
return anchored by
gyroscopic precession

you and i spin into

moving closer looks

after all that

after all that
lollygagging, Winter
finally decided
to get the ball
rolling, throwing
a mean hook shot
with minimal spin