Notes

Your neck reminds me.
Your hair reminds me.
The angle of your earlobe reminds me.
Softness is something we tell
children as they snuggle
stuffed barracudas.

Songs don't tremble on the radio
anymore. This high definition
makes me wonder if anyone hears
me anymore.

Come to the mixer.
Let me stare at the moles on your neck.
I will have their babies.