Fast

I could fast on your breath, gaze, a single sip

of your sweat. All I want

is to rest in your regard.

If your mouth were the sea,

I would bathe in you.

If your touch were the forest,

I would burn all my clothing

and never go inside.

If your whole body

was a blank sheet of paper,

vacant as snow under a mute, gray sky

I would go blind.

 

Andrew Squitiro is a poet and teacher in Louisana. He runs the Downriver Chess Club of New Orleans, and teaches as an adjunct at Delgado Community College. His writing can be found at Diagram, Pank, and Entropy.