The Hodgepodge

a little bit of this, a little bit of that
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on the way, hoan

i bit down-

my tongue nowhere to be found.

maybe it was

swallowed with your confession,

my words slipping down my throat 

like condensation 

on your windshield,

like raindrops in my eyes.

the river splits the land below us

concrete lifting us above the noise

I want to sit with this,

to sit with you,

but the center console holds your secret

wedged between us all along,

& we are pulled apart again.

I can feel the weight of my body,

the weight of my want,

pinning me into the passenger seat-

a crush that never lets up.

you name the forces at play:

“magnetic”

pull and resistance wound into one

the air still charged

from the afternoon storm.

by morning, the clouds will burn away

but I’ll still be humming from the current 

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