The First Date

Inside my stomach,
my nerves knit sweaters
for my anxiety to wear

and the lumps in my throat
are playing leapfrog
with themselves.

Hands braced around a bottle,
I face the green of your stare.

I’m already a salt shaker of desire for you.
My lips define chaos when you look at me
and there is lightning in your palms
every time you touch me.

There is nothing but a second spun between us,
but, already, you set the world on edge.

© Keighley Perkins


About handshedown

Keighley Perkins is a Cardiff-based poet whose influences include Anis Mojgani, Selima Hill and Richard Brautigan. Her work has previously been published in "Acumen", "Elbow Room", "Erbacce", "Fire", "Northwind" and "Obsessed with Pipework". She can also be found online on Twitter at @handshedown. View all posts by handshedown

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