t//h//e w//a//l//l

More up against
the wall
because your breath is
beautiful
and the finger tips trace
those Braille skin 
thighs
you haven’t
shaved.
and I prefer the
honesty
in the way your fringe
sticks
to your forehead
damp
from sweating
into waning eyebrows,
barely there because
you pluck when you’re
worried.
But you’ve nothing to worry about
when we’re up
against
the
wall.