Poetry: My Egg Timer Lover

New Poetry by Zevida Germain

Graphic Nadine Abdellatif

Hands travel over this broken body of mine

Soft feather finger tips

But when my hands find your body

They get stuck on Curves, stowaway clothes

Refusing to wander like they should

 

I do not work in harmony

Your mind ticks like an egg timer

Your body climbs pleasure like a mountain

I am stuck on this scratching mattress

Pine needle sheets and your tongue in my Mouth

Wishing I could be numb to sensations my mind worships

 

If there's another way to love

Mouth far from Mouth, busy hands keeping to themselves

I hope to never know it

You are overwhelming, car alarms and messy kisses

It's the sweetest sensation I’ve ever known

This article originally appeared in Volume 43, Issue 6, published November 8, 2022.