Page 12 - Contrast2014

Andrea Briggs

formitya

my mind forms the sounds in cyrillic,
MOH rnofioasspilling from your lips
in softened syllables, curling
around the shell of my ear in a puff
of warm breath, low and rumbling like
a heartbeat.

tonight, i think, we will speak
the same language, tonight
i will hear you say Anexxa
as though it's the way my name
was always meant to be pronounced,
your broad hands spanning across
my waist, capturing the consonants
between my hips, opening your mouth
against mine to catch the vowels.

your body will become my dictionary
as i skim my fingers over the definition of
your sloping shoulders, cross-referencing
the declension of nouns as we recline,
past and present tense blurring into
the future we hold between us
in learned phrases filled with sentiment,
sheets crumpling as i turn the pages,
tonguing freckles like diacritics splashed
across your skin.

contrast I 10