Submitted by megan on Sun, 06/27/2010 - 20:38
You place both hands on my sternum, one on top of the other. Gently, your full palm, the weight of your other hand. The bulk of your body the promise or threat behind them. I squirm. Breath shallow. Chest tight. I clench and unclench my hands, curl and uncurl my toes.
You're talking. You're nothing over the ebb and flow of my blood. You lift one hand, slap me sharp, pulling back hard at the last second. My eyes sting. I might be crying.
I try to rock my hips until you pin them with your knees. Still me.