Sexy Yearning Poems from Vince Ruston
Sexy Yearning While in a Wikipedia Wormhole
Something about this is
primordial.
Our atoms have
known each other since
before even the
Haedean eon
maybe even since two
dwarf galaxies crashed together,
exploding
into rubble and dust,
spraying particles into the
ether
only to be
rearranged by
gravity, into a new
planetesimal
only to
crash and explode
in pieces of shrapnel
again
only to
coalesce, and
shatter
over and again in an
infinite loop until they
eventually
form the earth,
metallic oceans and
molten, churning core.
My atoms have been
trying to fall into the right
orbit to find yours
since that first,
ageless
collision;
the first time I
touched you was like
‘oh,
fucking finally.’
Sexy Yearning While Cooking
The onions make me
cry. A slip of the knife
slices
a dash in the pad of my little
finger.
I suck the blood, staunch it with the
inside of my cheek. The kitchen
chokes
with the recipe you taught me,
garlic, basil, and gleaming
burst-ripe
tomatoes, steaming up
the windows. I swim
in the aroma, the
closest I can get to you
tonight, the
smell of you
permeating my clothes,
clinging to my
skin.
The wooden spoon,
touched to my lips to take
this part of you
inside me.
It scalds my
tongue like a
brand
with your name on it.
