E.B.

I tread tough hands along porcelain veins

once miles away, still too far away

as centimeters of air divide exalted breaths

filled with agony that such separation endure

longer than the ending of a school sporting meet.

The night follows soon after

Engulfing our whole as mine is yours

Bodies are body

And yours is mine, again

Touching and holding and squeezing; refuting daylight

yet

The dream we share never comes at night and distracts us into daylight’s grasp,

Holding us tightly, gambling games with euphoria,

(sixth period, mathematics)

lead our personas along its cosine…no

y equaling infinity along mount Sisyphus’ crest

stay and hold

stay and hold

ill see you there—

Zachary Goodman