College Echoes

My cries do not eclipse
the Dark side of the moon
this time

A phone call about finals
stops our finale

I have to go --
you say, pulling on cherry boxers
     I do not giggle about the bulge
        since I can hardly Breathe
            at the simple sight of you dressing
-- but let me take you home.

Pressed into your back
beneath us the hum of your bike
draws my pulse lower, deeper
glowing crimson hot inside
I feel -- almost-- that we are in sync.

Try not to sway so much you say

My cheeks flare under the helmet
hot aftershocks of your skin
your touch still
Shines on crazy --and I know
 
I must be careful
Not show I still need more
Welcome to the machine
but, oh how

I wish you were here.