May 15, 2015
Rusty Muscle Memory
I forgot the color of the building I but remember well The rusty stair well hand rail Where we used to talk. (Or where I used to listen) And your rusty hands Trying to pry anyway my consent To touch me With cold metal Rust stained finger tips. When I said "No" You pushed harder and harder I said "It's late, I'm watching Jurassic park" You said "That movie is always on" As if it were some reason for me to unlock the door. To rest my body and sleepy eyes In rusty arms twice my age. Why did you think this was okay? why? I. Said. No.
