We reduce distance and turn off the lights,
unclear of how to proceed. I feel your breath
pass through my hair, the smell of Cheetos and
Smirnoff stain my senses. I unbutton my shirt
mechanically, you disrupt the rhythm to roughly
grab my breast. I think of my vacation to
Easter Island, how the ariki ruled over his people-
the dead provided life to the living.
It has been said the villages were erected
away from the sea, keeping the spirit world
at bay. The dead were feared, but needed.
I hardly notice you are inside me.