We sit knocking knees, looking
at one another’s lips, thinking,
“Who would I kiss? Pat on the back
over and over, just to touch?”
I don’t want to bolster you much,
just want to slide my lips sideways
across yours and clasp little fingers
together, want to touch your shoulder,
want a few grams of your warmth for
some self-esteem, to chew on meaning
and fat and multi-task my way to nirvana.
Dull fireworks, fizzling and falling,
passerby love and casual affection
mediocrity making my mouth water.