The Hot Place

I feel the chord around my ankle.

One around the left
and One around the right.


I feel the vibration
of black rub-on insulated light.


I see the charcoal blue
Of sweating dark delight.


Silver canisters
and elastic time tick soundscape
pumped up
to squeeze
A spot shot through the night.


Skin stuck sticking done;


And if it makes them all run?


Then I will give it to the one who kissed me like the sun.