Our bodies play
hide and seek.
Your tongue probes
my mouth, searching
for yesterday's kiss.

You know
how to ask for sex
in six different languages.
I wish you were as
proficient in love.

When you leave,
I bury my head
in your pillow,
dare not breathe,
lest your scent
take me captive again.

Later, your voice crawls out
of my answering machine
'I want you'
Using that red dress
you bought me,
I smother your pleas.

Pris Campbell
11/17/2001


Accepted for publication in Blackmail Press, fall 2002