Rosa Caines
LUST TRIPS ME UP
Lust trips me up
like the sudden acrid taste of paracetamol on my tongue
like running down stairs too fast
like sunspots burning dark red on my eyelids
It catches me mid step
a sharp intake of breath
—and I know I am in trouble
because this time
even my heart is wet
hangs sort of heavy in my chest
full of chattering birdsong
and your name tossed around like a small ship in the waves
It’s a feeling I can’t climb down from
I cover my face in makeup
and try to remember the feeling of being admired
the heady intoxication the songs that come to mind
I remember it all and I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste blood
the metallic bringing me back to the quiet of my room
I try and untie these knots in a careful way
but lust trips me up
everything about you makes me ache
thinking of your collarbones can fold me like paper
or a collapsible summer deckchair
I wish you would call me up
no that’s wrong
I wish you would plunge your hands deep into my chest
and disfigure the cogs to make it all speed up again
panic runs this machine
I need your mouth to make it move