a poem a day for a year #96

by Amy Turn Sharp


you have a dangerous grin
dimpled dynamite
teeth like mirrors
I want to crawl inside the corner of your mouth
and stretch out like a cat
I want to sleep and laugh and kiss

this one time I saw you and you did not see me
and I walked behind the brick building
and threw myself against it several times
just to get myself straight
just to be able to walk down the street
without panting