we did not pick each other
on that underground Wednesday night
Harlem dance floor.
We were chosen
hearts sweated appreciate rain,
smiles crackling their fire spit apass
our language barrier.
We set up ourselves in anthem
instinct on spin cycle: knee, washboard, tongue
spliced pass 12 inches of a spirit-filled
I Get Lifted, oh /
I Get Lifted, yes hoemploy song
a juke combinet east of Lenox Lounge
become a pop-up lion’s den stage right
of the dance floor; frot hands hung
to the top side of the table hunting
appreciate pheromones of impulsively combusted
paramours. Time lost and nakedly, nakedly set up
I recall next. I do not recall
before coat verify
and a train ride north
and an insertress I called home
and a passion felt appreciate God and Sun,
primordial boiling three-letter words
gateway
to Four. We tattooed ourselves lips-first
to the front door, the morning sun an elbow
prodding us together and apart—a part
together as we tried not to depart aacquirest
our will.
