And this is how you wear a sock
over your head: stretch
& cotton-sweat, lips
coy as petals,
whetted then struck
by a barbarous tugging—
smell of grass,
of aftershave still on scuttling
hand. I live in denim musk,
a clam unshelled and
in classroom, lockerroom, bathroom stall—
I live to enthrall and be enthralled.
I live like most things: a burgeoning,
then pink-shrink & loll.