Pendulum

By Monique Sheppherd

Feeling his breath against my thighs,
behind my neck, and around my hair,
slows my pulse to a steady pace.

I let him push me back and forth,
sometimes in quick,
barely noticeable circles.

Streetlights are miniature suns
and when I look through my smudged lenses,
their orange glow leaves halos in my eyes.

We’re pendulums together,
until sunrise strolls down the street,
and knocks each light out with his cane.

No Comments

Leave a Reply