hot lust threads between my talus and calcaneus,
pulling my medial arch into a curve,
settling behind my peroneus longus
and gastrocnemius muscle before
surging up my hamstring
and that's what makes me takes the first step.
but it's the sound of your vocal chords,
writing themselves into the staff of my heartstrings,
the small bird fluttering around in my ribcage,
the angel sheltered in my clavicles, pressing grace
notes to the thudding behind my sternum so that my
blood sings in acciaccatura in the presence of your name
that makes me take the second one.
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